From: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Date: Wed, 11 Aug 1993 16:43:49 UTC
Subject: SUMMER DREAMS (man/boy)
WARNING:
This story (beginning in chapter 5) will contain
descriptions of consensual sexual acts between a man and a MINOR
boy.
If this subject offends you, or you are under 18, do not read
further! You have been warned!
FACT OR FICTION:
This is my first posting to this newsgroup although I
have enjoyed reading stories of this type here for some time now.
The story is part fact, part fiction, and as real life so often
does, begins slowly. Although I'm no longer sure where fact ends
and fiction begins, perhaps the reader can decide for himself
(herself). Of course, the names and general characteristics of the
'actors' have been modified although some similarities are
preserved.
REPLIES,SUGGESTIONS,ETC:
E-mail comments and criticisms to an27868@anon.penet.fi,
or post to alt.sex.stories.d, because that is what it is for, after
all. Don't post here! Please feel free to comment or point me
towards ftp sites for similar stories. If you like it, let me know
or I probably won't bother writing any more.
COPYRIGHT:
Copyright is held by the author at an27868@anon.penet.fi. August, 1993.
You are free to copy and distribute via electronic means only. In printed media,
copyright protection remains.
FINAL WARNING:
If you're under 18 or man-boy relationships aren't your
thing then exit now!
SUMMER DREAMS
Chapter 1. First Sightings
It was summer and in the low 90's outside. The evening just
beginning to cool down after a long hot day and it was the first
time I saw Dylan. It was at the ice cream shop. I'd walked down one
evening with my son and the boy was sitting at the table next to
mine. He was with another boy, maybe a year older, and two girls.
From their appearance, apparently neither of the girls were his
sisters, and from his lack of interest, I assumed that they were
not girl friends either. I guessed that one of the girls might have
been his friend's sister. But it was Dylan that interested me, not
that I knew his name then. He was what could only be called
beautiful, the kind of beauty that one turns or stops to watch, the
kind of beauty that is unnatural in a boy. He was blond headed, his
hair long and slightly curly, bright golden strands bleached by the
sun. He was slender, and from what smooth flesh was exposed, seemed
to have a nice even tan. He was short but with a beautifully
proportioned body, probably a few inches under five feet, and if I
had to guess, probably not much more than eighty pounds. As I sat
there eating my ice-cream I thought that he couldn't have been much
older than twelve. There was a natural and youthful grace about
him, but it was his face that struck me the deepest; his finely
sculpted features, almost too delicate to be a boy, yet
irresistibly so. I glanced over at him again and again, absorbing
the aura that he seemed to exude, there was a liveliness, a youthful
vitality, a quick grin, a playfulness that made me want to know him
better. He was dressed in long shorts, almost to his knees, a long-
sleeved checked shirt, with the arms untidily pushed upward, almost
defying the heat.
That was the first time and every day for the rest of that
week I scrutinized the ice-cream store on my way home from the
university, hoping to see him again, but each time I was
unsuccessful. The next time was about a week later. We'd just
joined the local swim club and I'd taken my son for his swimming
lesson. I sat back in a chaise-longue watching the pool, absorbed
by the lean bodies of the young swim-team boys, dressed only in
their brightly colored Speedos, as they practiced diving, swimming
and generally enjoying themselves.
That is when I saw him again, but he wasn't swimming. Again,
in the heat of the afternoon, he was playing basketball with his
friend, dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts, his golden
blond hair mussed up and sweaty. He moved agilely, shooting hoops
with ease, even though he was still quite short and the hoop was a
long way up. Compared to his friend he was outstanding, his
movements far swifter and reflecting his much greater agility. Half
hidden by the hedge, I sat back in the chaise-longue, waiting for
brief glimpses of my blond-headed boy as he jumped and ran around,
darting back and forth. Finally, the basketball game ceased and the
boys settled down to a game of ping-pong. Again, my blond-headed
boy ruled the day, returning hit after hit with seemingly little
effort. Then as my son's swimming lesson finished, I took over,
making him practice by swimming the short length of the pool. It
was traumatic and after a few minutes he had to break for a pit-
stop. I got out with him and went myself. On the way to the
bathrooms we passed the ping-pong table and for a brief moment I
watched him yet again, almost unable to take my eyes away from that
beautiful young creature. After I'd been to the bathroom I came
back to the fence that divided the play area from the pool area and
I stood there, leaning against the fence, watching the boy play
ping-pong, hoping that my son would take his time.
Finally, his swimming lesson over for the day, we left by
going the long way around the pool. I hoped to see the boy up close
one more time that day. He was still playing, still moving quickly,
almost with the same high energy level he'd demonstrated earlier
on the basketball court.
Another day or two passed, every minute at the pool I watched,
hoped, and prayed that he would arrive, but without success. Then
the third day, as I sat back on the chaise-longue, he sauntered up
to a chair on the other side of the pool, dropped his bag and
removed his long-sleeved shirt, revealing a beautiful slender torso
with an even almost-bronze-colored tan. This kid was something
else, the pool was crowded, the temperature was in the low-to-mid
90's and he was wearing a long sleeve shirt, possibly even flannel,
but from where I sat it was impossible to tell. He kicked off his
shoes, picked up his swimming costume and headed off to the
changing room. For a moment I thought about following him, perhaps
faking a trip to the bathroom, wondering whether I'd get a glimpse
of his naked body, perhaps even see .... I waited too long, he came
back, sauntered over to the chair and dropped his shorts and white
jockeys into his back and then walked casually to the diving board.
His swimming costume was blue and cut like shorts. It was very
different to the narrow Speedos of the swim-club boys, which
exposed almost as much as they covered.
In that brief walk to the diving board I absorbed him, his
legs were lean and slender, browner at the ankles and legs. Then
past his knees, the tan faded slightly, I supposed as a result of
his long-length shorts.
At the diving board he stopped for a moment, as if focusing
his attention, concentrating his energy, then, a few quick steps,
and an animal-like spring high into the air, a somersault, and he
sliced into the water with barely a splash. This boy could dive.
He emerged, his blond head now dark from the water, shook it
briefly, then with one or two powerful strokes reached the side of
the pool. With both hands on the edge, he lifted himself up, coming
easily to his feet in one graceful, seemingly effortless motion.
Then again and again he dived, some dives smooth and graceful
and obviously very familiar to him, others not as well-practised,
and just a little bit awkward. It was as if my eyes were riveted
to this startling boy, absorbing his every move, until my son's
lesson finished and he startled me by silently coming to up to the
chair and dripping on me. I got into the pool with him and again
we practiced his short-laps, back and forward across the pool.
When he needed a break to get his breath, I held him and as we
watched the boy diving, I told him that maybe one day he'd be able
to dive like that. Finally, our practice session was over and we
got out of the pool and towelled off. As we left, we went the long
way, close to the diving boards. Just feet away, I watched the boy
climb out of the pool, saw his slender lithe body, the bronzed-
brown tanned chest, nipples that were so small that they were
nearly invisible, the clear indentations of his ribs, a flat brown
belly grooved by firm strong muscles, a small indented belly
button. Then he took a few steps and leaped upwards, doing a double
somersault and then rocketing down into the water. For a moment we
stopped to watch him as he emerged, swam to the side and climbed
out, then another dive. My son said something but I didn't hear
what. It was as if the world was closed, my attention focused on
the beautiful young boy. Unable to find the courage to stay longer,
I ambled out of the pool area, taking just one longing look back
at the diving board. I didn't see him and I guessed that he was
still in the water.
Another day or two passed before I saw him again. Each time
I walked to and from work I looked for him, eager and hopeful of
seeing him in the ice cream shop though I knew that the chance of
seeing him there again at the precise time I walked by was very
unlikely. When I saw him the next time it was totally unexpected.
It was 5.30 pm and I was walking home from the university. I would
pick up my son and with luck I would see the boy again at the pool.
As I neared my house I saw a person walking down the street, coming
towards me. At first I thought it was a young woman, then a girl,
then as he came closer I realized who it was. Still dressed in
shorts and a long sleeved shirt, I tried to focus all my thoughts,
to capture a lasting image as he passed beside me. Too brief, not
much more than a glimpse, not enough to be lasting, but in the few
seconds that he was only a foot or two away, I saw that he was a
very beautiful boy. I guessed that he was on his way home from the
pool, carrying a bag casually, not smiling, but not unhappy. I
should have turned to watch him as he continued on his way, perhaps
he'd turn as well to look back at me, surely he'd sensed the same
magnetism that I felt. But then, why would a beautiful boy,
probably not much more than twelve years old, be interested in
grown man in his early forties. But at least I knew that sometimes
he came my way, perhaps he lived close to my house, perhaps within
a few blocks, perhaps I'd see him more often, perhaps.... But why
hadn't I seen him before.
The next day I saw him again at the pool, sitting on the rear
deck of the pool-house by himself. He looked lonely, as if waiting
for someone and I supposed that he was waiting for a lift home.
Perhaps that was why he'd walked the previous day, his lift hadn't
arrived for some reason and he'd been forced to walk home. He was
still dressed in a long-sleeved shirt. In the barest instant that
I saw him, I thought his eyes met mine, then quickly look away. Was
it my imagination, that a look of recognition flashed across that
beautiful young face, the merest glimmer of a smile.
The days passed slowly after that, for nearly a full week I
didn't see him, every day I looked for him where ever I went. Often
at the pool I'd see a blond-headed boy who seemed to be about his
size. I'd watch him continually from my chaise lounge unsure that
it was "my boy". As I left, or went to the bathroom, I'd come closer
only to find out that it was someone else. I was disappointed then,
but also glad because these other boys always seemed to have lots
of friends around them. Each day brought new hopes and further
agony. Each night I dreamed (fantasized) about the boy, pretending
that we'd become intimate friends, pretending conversations,
imagining playful tickles and rough-housing with him.
Then on a Tuesday afternoon I went home early to do some
painting on the garage. By about 2.00 pm I was working on the front,
closest to the street, when I looked over at the other side of the
street for no reason at all. There he was. He looked in my
direction, but he was too far away for me to tell if his eyes had
met mine, too far to tell if he'd smiled, just far enough to see
the glistening golden blond head turn away as he continued on his
way up the street. I watched him, breathing out slowly with a
longing sigh. What would I have given then for his affection, even
just to speak to him. I was dirty and covered with a film of white
paint-dust, dressed only in an old pair of grey-green shorts. Then
he turned, and for another fraction of second, he looked back at
me again as he continued walking. And then he was out of sight. The
time was just after 2.00 pm and it was obvious that he was on his
way to the swim club, carrying his bag over his shoulder, still
dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts.
Chapter 2. Introductions.
Wednesday, 2.00 pm, and every few seconds I glanced around,
searching the street for a sign of the boy. Minutes pass, long slow
minutes that seem endless. This time I was painting, rather than
sanding. I was hopeful, no desperate would be a better word for
what I'm feeling. He's late, he's not coming, he went by earlier,
he's gotten a ride to the pool, he's.... I went back to work, still
glancing back at the street, no sign of the boy. Then I saw him,
this time he was on my side of the street, which was unusual since
there is no footpath. I turned to watch him go past, praying for a
sign of recognition. Then he was opposite me, only twenty five feet
away. Still walking, he turned his head, his golden hair glistening
in the sun. There seemed to be a tiny smile form, he shook his head
abruptly as his eyes met mine (already I know they are blue, like
the afternoon sky). The boy is incredibly beautiful, I wanted to
say something, anything, but no words came out and I stared at him
dumbly. He began to turn away again as if to cross the street and
I raised my eyebrows in a pleading, desperation and breathed
outward heavily, a long noticeable sigh of longing. Almost to late
the boy stops, the smile widened and flashed across his face. In
that instant, unable to stop myself, I waved. He didn't return my
salute to his beauty but he smiled still more, then began to turn
away again. I watched him as he crossed over the street, my eyes
drawn irresistibly to the boy's small firm buttocks, imagining them
so smooth and soft under his shorts, sighing with regret, so close,
so untouchable. In the middle of the road he looked back over his
shoulder and saw me still watching him. This time he returned my
wave of recognition, went few more paces then stopped, turned
around and smiled as he looked directly at me. He came closer, until
he was only a few feet away. He was still smiling, his perfect teeth
unbelievably white.
"Hi", I mumbled incoherently, trying to swallow, trying to
breath as I looked down at him from the ladder.
"Hi," he grinned playfully, his eyes flashing as they looked
into mine. "Awfully hot for painting, isn't it?" he observed. His
voice was higher pitched than I would have expected, the nervous
tremor as present in him as it was in me.
"You're not wrong about that," I said stupidly, "I'd much
rather be at the pool."
"Yeah I'm headed that way now," the boy grinned.
"So I see. So I see." I observed, frantically trying to think
of something else to say to him. I wiped my forehead with the back
of my hand, smearing white paint across my head.
"Heh, look out, you're painting yourself," he giggled, his
blue eyes flashing with the life and vitality of uninhibited youth,
his golden-blond hair glistening in the hot afternoon sun.
I laughed with him, the few seconds bringing instant relief
into my aching heart, wondering, hoping that the boy felt the same,
but knowing that he could not. After all he was a kid, just a kid,
maybe twelve, maybe younger, why would he be interested in me I
thought. "I guess I'll see you at the pool huh. I haven't seen you
there for quite a while now," I blurted out.
The boy reddened slightly as if embarrassed, "Huh?" he said
awkwardly, "You've seen me there? At the pool?"
"Huh huh. 'bout a week ago, I watched you diving. By the way
you dive beautifully. Some of the dives where you somersaulted were
incredible."
"Yeah! Thanks, I... I guess I do okay on some... a few...like
my back somersault.... kind of need a lot of practice," he said
hesitantly.
"I thought you were great," I added with conviction.
The boy smiled, "Your little girl is swimming better."
"He's doing even better now than when you last saw him Last
week we started doing laps. He's up to three now and getting out
of the dog-paddle mode as well."
"I know, like I said, he's swimming a lot better," the boy
said. Then suddenly, he realized what he'd said and he looked down
at his feet.
"Huh. But I didn't see you 'round the pool this last week," I
said matter-of-factly, then I too realized what I'd said.
The boy smiled shyly as he looked up, "Yeah, well .... I
watched from up on the deck..... I didn't feel much like swimming.
You probably didn't see me up there."
I grinned back at him and shrugged, "I guess we'll see you at
the pool latter today?"
"Yeah I guess so. See you later," he smiled, as he turned away
and started back across the street. Just before he reached the
other side he turned and waved. I grinned happily and waved back.
That afternoon I couldn't get to the pool soon enough. As
soon as my father-in-law dropped him off I bundled him inside and
we went upstairs to get changed. I took the Corvette. Even though
I still needed to fix the cooling problem, it was only a few blocks
and I figured that I needed the ego boost. I didn't see the boy
until we were in the pool area, he was playing basketball with
another boy, shooting the occasional hoop, as he moved with an
elegant grace around the court. He noticed me and tried to wave,
missing the ball as he lunged upward and nearly loosing his balance
at the same time. He came down hard enough to break or sprain an
ankle but it didn't seem to slow him down as he twisted to one side,
then, with what seemed an effortless motion, jumped backward, spun
around and went after the other boy who now had possession of the
ball.
I took my son into the water for his warm-up practice swim,
we still had about ten minutes until the instructor arrived.
Unfortunately, once we were in the pool, it was impossible to see
the basketball court. The ten minutes passed slowly, then we
climbed out as the instructor came over to the side of the pool. I
walked over to the chaise longue we had staked out with our towels
and dried off before I sat down. The boys had left the basketball
court and I scanned the area trying to see him. There was no sign
of a boy that looked even remotely like him. Perhaps he was in the
changing room, or upstairs getting a snack, or... any one of a
thousand places. I wondered if I should go for a walk around the
building, perhaps he was on the front deck, where I'd seen him once
before. Perhaps he'd gone home. No, not that, I decided, knowing
that he was around somewhere and that sooner or later he'd be back
where I could see him.
I settled out on the chair, trying to be patient but feeling
a desperate longing build up inside me. While there were a few other
boys around the pool none of them were worth watching, not after
him, not after I'd spoken with him. I watched my son swimming, he
was by far the best of the bunch now, a very different kid from
when he'd cried and shrieked when I first let him go in the water.
About ten minutes passed before I sensed the boy's presence just a
few feet away. He was dressed in, yes you guessed it, the long-
sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up his slender brown arms and
shorts, but his feet were bare. He had approached very quietly and
I was startled. He smiled even as I smiled at him. All I could get
out was, "Oh! Hi."
The boy grinned cheekily, "Did I startle you?" he asked.
"Yeah... you did. Well I made it to the pool" I said.
"So I see. You got the paint off too," he teased playfully,
"The last time I saw you there was more paint on you than on the
garage."
We laughed, "I was a bit of a mess, wasn't I. It's pretty messy
when you paint up in the air, when the paint drops off the brush
it goes all over you."
We looked at each other silently, thinking of what to say
next.
"You going to do some diving?" I asked.
The boy shrugged, "Maybe later on."
"You want to sit down here?" I asked nervously. I thought I
heard my own voice tremble, just like a teenager asking for his
first date. The boy shrugged again, momentarily sucked his bottom
lip pensively, and then shrugged his shoulders again nonchalantly.
"Yeah, I guess," he said as he dropped down onto the chair
beside mine.
There was a moment of silence, then I said, "Heh, my name is
Alex, what's yours?"
The boy grinned, "Oh," he answered in surprise, then as if he
had to remember, hesitated before he said, "Dylan".
"Happy to meet you Dylan", I smiled, reaching out with my
right hand toward the boy. What a perfect name for such a perfect
specimen of a boy. Dylan hesitated, unsure of my outstretched hand,
he swallowed nervously then he said awkwardly, "Oh, hi!", as his
right hand reached outward me. That first touch was unforgettable,
the boy's hand was warm and small with a slight moistness, his
fingers seemed strong as they gripped mine, the skin was incredibly
soft compared to my own. I glanced down at the boy's hand held in
mine, then when I looked up, I met his eyes with mine. The boy
smiled shyly, almost embarrassed by shaking my hand, then he looked
away. I wanted to linger, to keep on holding his hand, but I knew
better, and I released him.
"She's doing hisarms much better now," the boy observed.
I looked over towards my son, "Yes he is, isn't he. It'll be
a long while before he can swim as well as you though."
The boy grinned back at me, his perfect teeth were a pure
white, his lips were dark and passionately shaped. His eyes
sparkled, they were a pale blue, like the sky at the horizon, his
eyebrows were fine lines a little darker than his hair. "So why
don't you do laps while he's having a lesson?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh, I don't know. I guess it's more fun sitting here and
watching people," I mumbled, after all I could hardly tell Dylan
that I sat there waiting to see him.
Dylan smiled, "I think I'll go for a swim. So do you want to
do laps with me," he asked.
"Huh? Oh! yeah, if you want to", I said, then added, "You'll
have to go slow though."
Dylan laughed as he leaped to his feet, "Okay, I'll be right
back, I gotta change first," he called back as he half-walked,
half-ran towards the changing room.
A few minutes latter he was back, dressed in the same blue
swimming costume that he'd worn the last time, the time when I'd
watched him diving. "Come on," he grinned. For a few all-too-brief
seconds I feasted my eyes on his body. He was the epitome of
boyhood, his body was lean and lithe, but not skinny, with firm
muscles that rippled under his delicious brown skin. There was a
golden lustre, a glow of youth and vitality that emanated from him,
an absolute perfection of proportion and contour. My eyes began at
his head and rapidly traversed down in a well-remembered glance.
The boy still had the body of a young boy, without the changes of
late pubescence, his shoulders, though well muscled, still sloped
downward, there was a beautiful slenderness to his torso, a narrow
waist and ribs that were clearly defined with tiny nipples, nearly
the same color as his well-tanned chest and almost
indistinguishable. A gentle depression began at this through, led
downward to mark the center- line of his chest, then became the
taut muscles of his belly. His perfect symmetry was accented by a
small navel that was indented, and partially covered by a little
fold of soft skin. His stomach muscles finally tapered into his
swimming costume as it covered his groin. There was a small fold
in his costume, accentuated by the slenderness of his hips and
waist that hinted at the presence of his genitals beneath. For a
moment I considered if the fold in the nylon reflected how big he
was or whether it was merely incidental. Even as I lifted my eyes
upward I wondered whether the boy still lingered at the beginning
of puberty, the absence of a larger bulge in his swimming costume
and the fact that he seemed so slender and smooth-skinned suggested
that he had not begun to mature. He smiled slightly, almost shyly,
as if aware of my concentrated gaze, and I smiled back.
We walked over to the lap pool. Luckily the far lane was unused
and we took up positions, Dylan on the diving stand and me standing
beside him at the edge of the pool. "On your mark,... set... go",
he said, as his lithe brown body sprang forward like an arrow. I
had a momentary glimpse as he rocketed into the water, before I
followed him. Of course I knew that there was no way I could keep
up with him, he moved gracefully, brown slender arms sweeping
through the water with unexpected power, demonstrating (showing
off) that he as much fish as he was boy. I swam as fast as I could,
but he still pulled away, further and further until he was more
than two lengths in front and that was before we reached the other
end. Dylan turned with a somersault, then breached the surface as
I came up to him. I caught a glimpse of a big grin as his face came
out and before it went back into the water. He swam a few more
lengths then stopped, now almost four lengths in front because of
my clumsy turn-around. He swam lazily, breast-stroking, as I came
up.
"Like I said, you'll have to go slow, real slow," I laughed,
playfully splashing water at him. "You're a lot younger than me."
The boy grinned as he splashed me back, "You're a great swimmer,
maybe I should hire you to teach my son how to swim." He smiled as
I added, "So champ, how old are you anyway?" I added.
"Twelve,... just, 'coupla weeks ago," he said as he began to
breast-stroke faster, pulling away again. He slowed again almost
as soon he had demonstrated his fish-like skill again. His body was
so slender that the water seemed to offer almost no resistance, he
didn't swim, this boy slid through the water with practically no
effort. After that Dylan swam next to me, or just a few feet in
front as we did lap after lap. A few times out bodies touched and
I felt what might be described as "electricity", though it wasn't
a shock, just a wonderful tingling sensation that made my heart
rate go up a few notches. Every so often we'd break from free-style
to breast-stroke and then we'd talk. Dylan seemed to open up to me
in the water, it was as if the water washed away his inhibitions
and by the time we'd finally climbed out I knew that he was an only
child, he lived with his mother, he didn't remember his father, and
he was changing schools in the Fall.
I would have gone on swimming next to the boy until I was too
weak to move but my reverie was interrupted by seeing my son
standing next to the pool, obviously hislesson had finished. We
climbed out and I introduced Dylan, almost proudly. With the nylon
of his wet swimming costume clinging to his thighs and buttocks I
had a tantalizing view of his boy-genitals. Even though that part
of his young body was contracted from the cool water there was a
small, but prominent bulge, not an erection but from the shape of
his penis outlined beneath the wet nylon. I fancied that I could
see the tiny ridge that formed at the little helmet-head. Of course
that would mean that the boy was circumcised..., his penis seemed
to protrude, sticking outward slightly as if lifted by his balls.
It was only with the greatest effort that I finally dragged my eyes
away.
In the next few minutes I saw a new and wonderful side of the
boy as he led my son off to the other pool and I watched them
splashing and laughing together. He did cannonballs into the water
with ridiculous motions, he dove and swam between hisoutstretched
legs, floated on his back then gradually submerged, and a dozen
other antics that left both of them giggling. I joined them and for
the next thirty minutes we played and romped without a care in the
world. But best of all was when Dylan climbed up on me so that his
feet were in my hands and then leaped up and outward as I lifted
up as hard and fast as I could, doing back-flips with seemingly no
effort at all. It left me feeling very close to the startlingly
beautiful young boy who had just come into my life and it left my
son in a fit of giggles.
All too soon it was over, Dylan had to get dressed and meet
his mom at the gate at 7.00 pm. As we climbed out and towelled off
he looked at me shyly as he asked, "You guys coming here tomorrow?"
"Huh, yeah I guess so, but you'll have to promise to swim
slower," I teased playfully, knowing that our friendship had grown
to the point where he'd appreciated my company.
"Great, I see you round six, okay, in the lap pool," he
grinned, as he started towards the exit gate.
I sadly watched him leave, then turned to my son as he said,
"I like Dylan. He's nice"
"Huh, oh yes, he's a nice kid isn't he," I replied with a smile
as I added, "I met him while you were having a swimming lesson."
We left shortly afterwards, there didn't seem to be much point in
staying any longer.
The next day we were back at the pool right at 5.30 pm. There
was no sign of Dylan and I felt quite sad. I'd thought of nothing
else except him since the previous evening. That morning I'd laid
in bed dreaming of the boy as I masturbated feverishly, fondly
remembering his perfect beauty, the smoothness of his lean brown
body, the small bulge in the wet nylon of his swimming costume, his
infectious grin.... My son and I practised hisswimming,
concentrating on getting hishead into the water, then out again
after three strokes. It was only after half an hour, when hislesson
was scheduled to begin, that I became aware of someone else, and
as I swivelled around, saw Dylan standing at the edge of the pool
watching us. Unlike the previous day, he'd discarded his blue
swimming costume in favor of the brightly colored Speedos that the
swimming-team boys wore. It was low-cut or maybe a size too small
for him, the nylon barely covering his pubis, his genitals forming
a small rounded bulge.
"Hi Dylan," I grinned, "looks like you're going to beat me
again today, huh?" I said.
He grinned back at me as he shrugged, then stepped forward to
the very edge of the pool as if he was going to dive in. Instead
he dipped the toes of one foot into the water, as if to test the
temperature, then kicked quickly sending a spray of water over me.
I laughed as I splashed him back, the water droplets glistening on
his smooth brown legs as they trickled downward. I sent my son off
to the other kids already gathered at the shallow end of the pool,
then climbed out. Dylan grinned cheekily, "So, let's go for a swim,
what are we waiting for?"
We went over to the lap pool and repeated the events of the
previous day, only this time Dylan seemed less communicative. I
found out only a little more about him. Like me, his mother was an
associate professor at the university, but in 'romance languages.'
I teased Dylan about what the language of romance was, but my feeble
joke seemed lost on him.
Finally I asked the boy what the problem was. He was silent
for nearly a minute, then answered, "I told my mom about meeting
you. She said it probably wasn't a good idea. Like I shouldn't be
talking to strange men at the pool. I told her you were married,
'n had a kid, and you were nice, but she still wasn't happy with
the idea. She didn't want me to come today."
"Oh! Well I guess she's right you know," I answered, "if you
were my son, I'm not sure I'd want you to go around talking to
strange men either."
Dylan grinned then playfully splashed water at me. I stopped
swimming and stood up, brushing the water from my face, "If you
like, Dylan, I'll come out with you when she picks you up this
evening. That way she'll at least know who I am," I offered.
"Would you? I,... I think that'd help, if she knew you," the
boy said gratefully.
I wondered then whether he'd fought with his mother, perhaps
even disobeyed a direct order when he'd come to the pool. Perhaps
his mother sensed her son's unusual interest, my affection for her
very attractive son being inappropriate.
After we'd completed a few more laps it was nearly 6.30 and
when my son came to the side of the pool we climbed out. I glanced
down at Dylan's body, but was disappointed to see that while the
taut nylon was clinging to his thighs, it revealed little more than
his other swimming costume. When I looked up I realized that the
boy had noticed that my attention has been focused on his groin. I
smiled and raised my eyebrows inquisitively, then asked, "So Dylan,
does the reduction in friction offset the increase in turbulence?"
"Huh?" the boy replied.
"Are they any faster than your blue costume?" I repeated.
"Yeah, I s'pose they don't drag as much," he answered.
"Well they look good on you," I observed as I wondered whether
the boy heard the excited tremble in my voice or realized that I
could barely drag my eyes away from his narrow thighs and the small
rounded lump that bulged from between his slender legs. He didn't
say anything as he towelled himself dry with brisk hard rubbing,
then he looked down at me as I sat on the chair to put my shoes on.
"Thanks for coming to meet my mom," he said. "She's probably
waiting outside for me now. I better go see her before she get's
mad at me."
"Well come on then," I said, getting to my feet and, taking
my son by the hand, followed Dylan out to the car park. By the time
we had reached the gate Dylan was forty feet in front, and he went
over to the side of a car that was stopped in the drop-off area.
His mother was attractive and blond-headed, just like her beautiful
young son. She was driving a cream-colored convertible with the top
down, a Volkswagen Passat, a car which looks remarkably like a box
on wheels. Dylan went to the passenger side and spoke to his mother
for a moment. I could see her talking to him, then Dylan said
something back to her. She nodded and the boy twisted around, and
beckoned to us to come over.
My son and I walked up and Dylan smiled slightly, shyly,
apparently embarrassed by having to introduce me to his mother. I
took over, nervously reaching over the door to shake the woman's
hand. "Hi, my name is Alex, Alex Weston," I said as I smiled as
reassuringly as I could, "And this is my son, Kelly."
"Hello," she said, still uncertain, then paused for and
instant, "I'm Diane Brady."
"Dylan tells me you're at the university. Associate professor,
Romance Languages right? I guess we've got a lot in common, I'm an
associate professor in automotive design and engineering."
"Oh! I didn't realize, he didn't say anything about you being
at the university too. Dylan wants to be an car designer when he
grow up, don't you honey?" she said.
The boy looked surprised as he turned to me, then he nodded
awkwardly, looking away from me as he answered 'Yeah, I guess so."
I realized that he'd suddenly become very self-conscious, then
I realized it was probably because his mother had called him
'honey' in front of me. I grinned at Dylan playfully, "Well I hope
so, he certainly is bright enough. Your son can swim like a fish,
I can barely keep up with him even when he swims slowly. He's even
been helping me teach Kelly how to swim."
"I hope he hasn't been a nuisance," Diane said uncertainly.
"Dylan? Hardly, he's a great teacher, my son listens more to
what he says than he does when I say it. I hope we'll see him here
tomorrow evening?"
"I, well I suppose so. That's up to Dylan. If he's not
bothering you?" she replied.
"Great", I smiled, "See you tomorrow Dylan, say round 5.30
again?"
"Huh? Oh yes, I'll be here 'bout then. I'll see you tomorrow,"
he said as he opened the car door and slid down into the bucket
seat. We watched them drive off and I hoped that Dylan would turn
around or wave but he didn't.
Chapter 3.
The next day I was sitting in my office working on the computer
when the phone rang. I was about halfway through the design of a
rear spoiler using a simulation program I'd developed a year ago
and I didn't like the interruption to my work. The phone rang again,
persistently so I scooted my chair over and away from the computer
and picked it up. The voice was on the other end was a woman's and
for an instant it was unfamiliar. "Hello, is this Professor
Weston?"
I was surprised because I thought that I recognized the voice
and for an instant I didn't say anything other than "Yes?"
She continued, "This is Diane Brady. I'm Dylan's mom, we met
yesterday?"
In a flash all my fears came at once, she was calling to tell
me to keep away from her beautiful young son. I swallowed,
nervously, hesitated a moment and then said, "Oh, hi. It was a
pleasure to meet you."
"I just wanted to call and say that I'm glad we met yesterday.
I hope I'm haven't interrupted anything. Dylan's talked a lot about
you. I must tell you that I wasn't at all happy with him hanging
around with strange men at the pool."
"I'm glad we met too, Mrs... Ms... Brady. He's a great kid,"
I said honestly.
"Call me Diane, please. Well I just wanted to call and say...
well that I feel that Dylan's in good hands. Well good-bye..." she
tailed off.
"Diane, it's nearly lunch time, perhaps I can meet you for
lunch," I said quickly.
There was a brief hesitation on the other end then she said,
"Yes, yes I think that would be a good idea. I'd like to. I don't
know anyone that I can talk to about Dylan. He seems to really like
you."
I breathed out in relief, my fears dispelled. "I have a
meeting this afternoon at 1.30, we'd have to go now. The faculty
club is open, can we meet in the foyer in say ten minutes?"
Ten minutes later I was standing in the foyer as Diane
entered. "Hi," I said, "I've already got a table, non-smoking
okay?"
The woman smiled, "That's good. I'm afraid I'm a few minutes
late, it's been hectic this morning. I'm working on a book and the
publisher wanted me to fax back some galleys."
"I know the feeling," I said, leading the way into the dining
area and over to the table. We didn't talk as we scanned the menus,
then ordered salads and ice teas. Finally Diane looked up at me and
breathed out, "Whew, it's nice to slow down for a while. So much
for the easy life of the academic."
I grinned, "Books are always a pain in the neck. They're more
work than they're worth. With publish or perish, I think I'd take
the latter."
Diane smiled, "Maybe. But seeing your name of the front cover
is always nice."
I laughed, turning around as our ice teas were placed on the
table. "Thanks", I said, then turned back to Diane, "I'm sorry that
we have to rush lunch."
"That's okay. I have to get back myself, but I did want to
talk about Dylan. Perhaps you... well maybe you can help."
"Sure. I doubt if I can, but fire away."
She looked down, "Right now Dylan's going through a difficult
period. He's always been a sweet kid, now he's just difficult."
"As his age he's probably starting to go through puberty. It
does that to boys sometimes," I replied. "All those extra hormones
are something of a shock."
"Maybe but I don't think so. Not yet anyway. He's always been
a loner, maybe one friend or two at the most. About a week ago he
had a fight with his best friend. Now he just mopes around. I've
never seen him this depressed. I don't know what on earth has gotten
into him. He's a very sensitive boy. Usually we can talk, but now
he's started to clam right up."
I shrugged, "Kids go through a non-communicative stage too. I
remember I did. I was probably a few years older than Dylan."
"No. It isn't that. I really thing it's a much deeper
problem."
"Maybe," I agreed. "Why don't you tell me more."
"I don't know how to start, maybe at the beginning. Dylan's
father left just after he was born, so... well Dylan's never known
his father. I haven't married again. I guess... well I guess I don't
want to go through it all again. Anyway, Dylan's... I don't know
how to put this... I suppose he needs a father... He needs a... a
role model." The woman looked up at me expectantly.
I nodded reassuringly, "Probably does. He's at that age isn't
he."
She smiled and shrugged, "It's kind of hard for me to do the
kind of things with him that he needs."
I smiled, "I s'pose so. Don't you know someone that could take
him on. Aren't there any men in your department into camping,
fishing, and football?"
Diane looked up, "If you knew...," she began to laugh. "The
only one that isn't married is gay. I mean really gay, not just
open about it, he flaunts it. You might even say effeminate. I don't
think he'd know a football from a baseball, and as for camping, I
shudder to think."
"Not exactly the kind of role model for a twelve year old boy,
huh?" I acknowledged.
Diane nodded, "Not exactly. It isn't that I would hate Dylan
to be gay. I don't think any mother wants that for her son, but if
he is, well... I certainly don't want him to be like Adrian."
"So what you want is a rugged masculine guy?" I teased.
Diane started to laugh, finally relaxing, "Yes, something like
that."
"You know there are Big Brothers for that kind of thing," I
suggested.
"I know. I even suggested that to Dylan a week or two ago. He
got very angry at me for suggesting that one."
I smiled, "Well, I don't know what to suggest.
"Dylan really likes you a lot. He told me all about swimming
with you. He's as happy as he's ever been. You're good for him, he
needs someone like you. I mean. well if you could spend some time
with him, I think that's what he needs."
"I guess so," I said, trying to hide the joy that welled up
inside me. "He's a great kid. My son likes having him around too.
It's someone to play with, even if he is a 'boy'."
Our lunch arrived and for the next twenty minutes we ate and
talked, sharing the problems that confront the faculty of any one
of a thousand universities in the country. Finally, just we stood
up Diane looked at me seriously, "You know, I'm glad Dylan met you.
I think you're going to be good for him."
I smiled and shrugged, "I'll see him at the pool this
afternoon I s'pose?"
Diane nodded, "That was his plan at breakfast. One thing?"
"Huh?"
"I don't think that Dylan should know that we had this talk.
After the way he carried on when I suggested that he get a Big
Brother, well... he might not like me interfering with his
friendship with you."
"I think you're right. I'm sure we'll get Dylan back to his
old self", I added as we walked into the foyer. I glanced at my
watch, just five minutes to get back and print off my notes for the
meeting, "I'd better run. It was nice seeing you again. I'll see
you 'round campus," I added as I headed out the door, my heart going
about twice its normal rate.
That afternoon and the next I met Dylan at the pool and we
swam our customary laps. Each day the boy seemed to get friendlier
and more at ease. After our swim we would rough-house in the water,
tossing the eighty pound boy high into the air, diving down in the
ten-foot-deep section of the pool chasing the plastic rings that
my son tossed in, splashing each other in a fit of giggles. The
following week it rained two days and it wasn't until Thursday that
we got to the pool. The sky was broken by fits of angry grey clouds
that threatened rain but we still went to the pool.
Almost as soon as we parked the car and entered the pool area,
Dylan sauntered up and grinned. He was wearing his Speedos again
and nothing else. I ran my eyes down and then up his body in silent
admiration. God he was beautiful, and sexy too. Every day since
that first time together in the pool I'd masturbated with ever
increasing frequency, always thinking about Dylan. By now I was
past the point of no return, ready to take any risk, if the reward
was Dylan. Instantly I started to get an erection and I casually
lifted my leg up onto the chaise longue to hide it. Gradually it
faded as I forced my mind to concentrate on anything else except
the beautiful, nearly naked boy next to me.
After commiserating about the lousy weather my son went off
to hisswimming lessons and Dylan and I headed off to the lap pool.
We swam for half an hour then went over to join my son. Our water
games were interrupted after fifteen minutes when the first big
droplets of rain splattered into the pool. A minute later we were
sheltering under the deck as the rain came down in earnest.
"So much for swimming today," I laughed.
Dylan looked out at the now steadily falling rain, "It's
probably drier in the pool," he observed as he towelled himself
dry. "What a pain. My mom's not going to pick me up till seven
tonight."
"We'll give you a lift home, won't we Kelly. It'll be a squeeze
but you'll fit. You guys wait here and I'll pull the car around to
the front," I said seeing a break in the rain.
I dashed out, running quickly, and got to the car just as the
rain began to fall harder. I fumbled with my keys, finally got the
door opened and dropped down into the seat. I started the car,
backed out of my parking spot and drove as close as I could to the
front gate. I opened the passenger-side door and waved to the kids.
A moment later Dylan and Kelly came running like two wet rabbits,
towels flying behind them. Dylan came through the open door first,
pulling his bag after him and I dragged over towards me to make
room for my son in the other seat. Eighty plus pounds of wet,
wriggling, giggling boy landed on my lap. Unable to resist, I
tickled him furiously, my fingers probing under his arms and ribs
as he laughed and twisted hysterically. My erection returned with
a surge as adrenaline screamed through my heart. Almost instantly
my cock was engorged and my hard-on was pushing into Dylan's
buttocks, straining against my own swimming costume and the taut
nylon of the boy's Speedos. His skin was incredibly soft,
glistening and slippery with the rain, emanating a pleasurable
warmth. Was it my imagination that Dylan pressed down even harder
onto my cock, almost rubbing himself against it, surely he could
feel the hot hardness underneath him. My brain shrieked out in
almost futile resistance, then my impulse died as I remembered my
son sitting only inches away. Still laughing I pushed Dylan away,
"It's gonna be real hard driving the car with you here."
The boy giggled, perching himself uncomfortably on the
transmission hump, with his slender brown legs next to my son's.
"This better? This sure is a great car Alex, I've never been in a
Corvette before."
I started the engine, 350 horsepower sending a gurgling
vibration through the chassis, and engaged first gear, easing out
the clutch. The car leaped forward and I powered it on down the
driveway, just short of spinning the wheels. There are very few
twelve-year-old boys who can resist the thrill of a fast car and
Dylan was not exception. He gripped the seats beside him and let
out one loud 'Wow' as we hurtled through first and second gears,
then braked hard at the corner. I accelerated up to sixty, twice
the legal limit before backing off. I glanced sideways at Dylan.
He had the biggest grin I'd even seen.
I followed the boy's directions to his house. He lived in a
duplex, he and his mom on the ground floor and a tenant on the
second floor. It was a nice place, brick and stone, maybe sixty
years old, with a large sycamore tree in the front yard. By then
the rain had eased off and Dylan slide over my son and out the door
after we'd said good-bye, and he had gushed effusively about the
car's acceleration.
Chapter 4. Twenty Questions.
The next day the rain seemed to have departed and we headed
up to the pool as usual, but a few minutes late. The swim lessons
had already started so my son went off to join hisgroup. The wind
was blowing so I selected a seat behind the pump-room wall in the
sun. There was no sign of Dylan and for some reason I didn't feel
much like swimming by myself. I looked around again and again,
hoping to see the boy. Somehow I was certain that he would be here
today.
I didn't have long to wait, after a few minutes Dylan walked
up and sat down on the seat next to mine. "Hi," he said.
"Hi yourself. Well is the lap pool as usual so you can beat
me again," I teased.
The boy shrugged, "Yeah, if you want. I'd rather talk but."
"Sure."
"You're my friend right?" he asked uncertainly.
"Huh huh, I'd say so."
Dylan looked away and took a deep breath, letting it out
slowly with a sigh, "So,..." he asked, then paused, "Can I ask you
a kind of personal question."
I glanced at the boy, "Huh huh," I said absently.
"Well...", he began then paused, summoning his courage, "When
you were a boy... say about my age, did you... well.... play with
it? You know...?"
I swallowed, feeling a sudden thrill, "Huh?" I responded."
"You know... play with your dick... your penis? You know...
jerk off"
I grinned, "Come on Dylan, every boy masturbates, plays with
his penis, at one time or another."
"So... did you jerk off... masturbate when you were a boy?
Masturbate... is that the right word?" he asked insistently.
"It is. Yeah, of course I did." I laughed, trying to pretend
uninterested, feeling my heart surge with adrenaline, then
realizing the need for caution, added, "This probably isn't
something you should discuss with me, is it?"
"Sure, I should ask my mom huh," he retorted angrily. "If I
can't ask you then who can I talk about it with."
"Heh Dylan, don't get uptight, it's okay to talk about sex
with me... if you want to." That was a close one. Dylan looked away
pretending to pout. It didn't last long, his interest was aroused
now, he needed answers.
"So... did you do it a lot?" asked again, his confidence
returning suddenly.
"What is this? Twenty questions? Yeah, I guess I did it a lot.
I still do."
He paused a moment trying to frame the follow-up question.
There was no way to avoid it, "Yeah? You still do it. But you're
so old. I mean a grown up,... So did you... do it with any of your
friends... when you were my age?" he blurted out.
I grinned, "Huh huh. I think a lot of boys experiment with
each other around your age. It's a perfectly normal part of growing
up. I don't think that playing around with your friends is bad,
though a lot of grown-ups probably wouldn't agree with that."
"But doesn't it make you gay? If you play around too much?"
he asked awkwardly.
"Hardly. Boys need to learn about their bodies," I answered,
then added, "A boy might be gay, if he is, then he'll probably enjoy
it more than other boys and as he gets older he doesn't grow out
of it."
"Oh!" Dylan was silent for a moment. "So can I ask you another
personal question?"
"Huh huh, if you want." I answered.
"Well..., when you... masturbated... well what did you think
about?" he mumbled nervously.
"That's pretty personal, don't you think?" I teased, wondering
whether Dylan would be shocked when I told him.
"Yeah I guess so... You don't have to answer, if you don't
want," he replied as he reddened slightly.
I laughed, "Okay, don't get embarrassed," I teased. "If you
really want to know, I thought about doing it with boys."
"Yeah!" he said incredulously. "So can I ask you another
question, but this one is really personal? You don't have to answer
if you don't want to."
"I guess. Fire away Dylan." I smiled at the boy reassuringly,
wondering what his quick mind and very fertile imagination were up
to. It didn't take long to find out.
"Well... you said you still do it... masturbate right? So...
well... what do you think about now?" he asked hesitantly.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Little blond
boys... if you must know."
He reddened visibly, "Huh?" he mumbled.
"Little blond boys," I repeated.
He blushed even more, his face now turning a reddish hue in
embarrassment. He was silent, lost for words as he tried to
understand. Finally, unable to hold back, he blurted out, "Like me?
About boys like me?"
"Huh huh, you're blond aren't you?" I teased.
"But you're... you're married, aren't you?"
"Being married doesn't mean that I can't be turned on by boys
like you," I answered gently.
Dylan fell silent again, trying to deal with this new piece
of information. "Yeah, I guess," he said quietly, then slowly he
looked up at me, his eyes alight with curiosity, "Do you really
think about me?" he asked, his voice trembling with building
excitement and enthusiasm.
"What do you think?" I replied, putting the boy on the spot
as I added, "And what do you think about when you masturbate Dylan?"
I asked.
I doubted whether Dylan could have gotten any redder but he
did, his face quickly turning an almost scarlet shade as he tried
to look away. When he spoke it was barely a whisper, "You... if you
must know. Ever since the first time I saw you, I started thinking
about you, okay."
"It's nothing to feel bad about Dylan," I said reassuringly,
"In fact I kind of feel honored. Is it my turn for twenty questions
now?" I teased.
He nodded, his long golden-blond hair shaking. Unable to look
back at me he focused his attention on the wall beside us.
"Well, I already know what you think about when you
masturbate..." I teased, "So I guess the next question if how often
you do it? Of course that's pretty personal too, so you don't have
to answer unless you want to."
"Huh, how often,... most every night I s'pose. Sometimes in
the mornings too, 'fore I get up," he answered quietly, his voice
trembling.
"Good, that's nothing to be ashamed of you know, Most boys
your age get the urge a lot," I laughed, then added, "And you think
about me as you do it right?" Dylan nodded. "Okay, next question.
So when you think about me, what do you think?"
Dylan's voice was little more than a whisper, "That's too
personal... okay?"
"Okay. Well next question. Do you play around with any of your
friends?"
Dylan looked at me angrily, "Huh. Yeah a bit, at least I did
a while ago. With my best friend, Gary, at least he was my best
friend back then. We jerked off some. Then one time when I wanted
to do more stuff, he backed out and didn't want to. He got kind of
angry and then he called me a faggot and said I was gay. The shit-
head even told some of the guys at school that I was."
"That's too bad, I'm sorry he did that to you Dylan. It wasn't
right," I said gently. "What did you want to do that made him
angry?"
Dylan's face had lost some of its red hue but he blushed again,
"You got to promise never to tell anyone, okay?" I nodded
seriously, I knew this was going to be good. "Well... first I wanted
us to suck each other's dicks. He said it was gross but he did that
okay. I could tell he wasn't that interested. I should have
realized then, but I didn't." He stopped, looking away as the
memory came back to haunt him, "Promise you won't tell anyone?" he
asked again. I nodded once more. "Well... then I wanted him to...
put his dick... in my backside," the boy blurted out shamefully.
"He got really angry, and that's when he started to call be queer
and.... Well I,... well I just wanted to see what it felt like.
Okay! It doesn't mean I'm gay does it?" he added fearfully.
"Of course it's okay Dylan," I reassured the boy. "It doesn't
mean you're gay. You're still much too young to know. Most boys go
through a stage; they experiment with each other, most of them grow
out of it. You might,... then again you might not, it's just too
soon to tell."
"Oh", Dylan swallowed. "But what if...? Well what if...? It
doesn't matter...."
"Ready for the next question?" I asked. Dylan nodded. "When
you masturbate, does anything come out?"
"Huh? Oh! Out of my dick, you mean can I come yet? Kind of, a
little drop of clear stuff sometimes comes out at the end. But I
have to do it for a long while, but nothing else, it's not white
or anything. White stuff would come spurting out of Gary's dick,
when he jerked off, but then he was nearly a whole year older than
me. I guess I'm still too young to come properly. I haven't even
got any hair down there yet."
We sat side by side both sensing what lay before us, both
afraid to break the silence, and open the door to what confronted
us now. Dylan's youthful self-confidence won the day, "So, I have
another question for you okay, it's really personal but? So you
don't..."
"Have to answer unless I want," I finished. "Fire away, Dylan,
and I'll decide."
"Okay, well when you think about me, well what do you think
about,... exactly?"
he asked shyly.
"Exactly?" I asked teasingly. The boy nodded slightly. "You
want all the dirty details?"
"Yeah!" he smirked playfully.
"You might find it a bit embarrassing, you know," I teased.
"So? I don't mind. So what do you think about? Tell me all the
details!" he insisted.
I laughed, unable to resist the boy. It was more than
flirting, the boy's deliberate challenge clearly intended to go
much further than merely satisfying his curiosity. Like me, he was
excited, his young body so aroused that he was barely able to
control himself. He trembled with anticipation, born of a primal
urge that had dwelled within him for as long as he could remember.
I knew without looking that my cock was erect. The insistent
throbbing and tightness in my swimming shorts was matched by the
same hardness between Dylan's slender brown legs, the small bulge
now slightly larger than it had been just minutes earlier. I
wondered how far Dylan would go.
"Heh, I asked you first remember?" I laughed.
The boy shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear relaxed, but
inside his heart was pounding and his breathing quickened. "You
first, okay?" he giggled.
"Why?" I teased, wondering what Dylan would think of me when
I told I dreamed of fucking his beautiful slender body, of holding
his golden-blond head and thrusting my cock back into his throat,
of sucking his little-boy cock until it was red-raw.
"'cause you're older than me?" he giggled. Dylan moved his
legs trying to hide his erection, so hard now that it had become
uncomfortable.
"Okay, I'll go first, I guess." I paused for a moment, letting
the silence sink in. It heightened the drama as I said, "I dream
about making love to you Dylan."
Needless to say Dylan blushed still more, "Y...yeah", he
stammered in obvious embarrassment. He swallowed nervously, took a
deep breath, "You got to promise never to tell, okay?" I nodded.
"I,... I pretend that, don't laugh okay,... I pretend that you
teach me about sex." I smiled at the boy encouragingly and he
realized that I wasn't angry. "I pretend that you teach me
EVERYTHING. Even... about what I tried to get Gary to do.... Not
just suck each other's dicks, but the other thing as well. Do you
mind?" he asked awkwardly.
"Do I mind? Of course not Dylan, I'm honored. You're a very
beautiful young boy. If I had the chance, I'd love to teach you
EVERYTHING!" I said honestly.
Dylan grinned, looking up at me with his innocent blue eyes,
"Everything? But I didn't think that you were... well gay or
anything..." he said.
I shrugged. "So tell me, do you dream about putting your dick
inside my butt?" he teased.
"All the time," I answered honestly. "You know Dylan, this
conversation is getting a bit out of control," I added.
"How do you mean, 'out of control'?" he asked, his teasing
voice revealing his intense excitement.
I laughed at the boy's pretense of innocence. "You know
exactly what I mean Dylan. We're sitting here, both of us with very
hard penises, talking about having sex. It's making you excited in
a way that probably shouldn't occur until you're much older. You're
barely twelve and I'm old enough to be your father."
Dylan's grin faded instantly and his crestfallen eyes pulled
away to look down at his feet. The silence seemed endless, we were
close to a precipice, which both us knew, opened into a bottomless
chasm. We needed to back away, everything was happening too fast.
"Are you angry?" the boy muttered at last. "I'm sorry."
"Dylan, there's nothing to be sorry about, really there
isn't."
"I wish you were my father," the boy said bluntly, slowly
lifting his eyes to look at me.
I smiled, gazing into the boy's eyes, awed by the intensity
within him. The boy's sparkling sky-blue eyes and glistening
golden-blond seemed to defy my demanding urge
to defile his beautiful body, the depravity of his own desire,
that now finally awakened, would torment him until he understood
it.
Unable to deal with his intense feelings, he changed the
direction of the discussion. "So when you were my age, did you do
anything else besides jerk off,... masturbate... with your
friends?" He grinned slowing as he added, "Did you do what I tried
to do with Gary?"
I smiled as I answered him, "Huh huh. Like I said, a lot of
boys mess around together when they're about your age. I guess I'm
no exception."
"Did you... you know do IT?" he continued, his insatiable
curiosity driving him onward.
I pretended ignorance, "Huh, do what?"
"You know!", he smirked cheekily, "...Back there," he finally
added after a long pause.
"Oh that! Yeah, I guess so." I teased playfully aware of
Dylan's building excitement, the nervous bubbling energy of youth
almost overwhelming the boy. He was practically shivering, his
voice, though quiet, was trembling as he put the next question.
"Did you... did you... like it? Did it... hurt?" he asked at
last, as he looked downward and away from me to the ground as if
ashamed, or afraid of the answer.
"Huh? Oh yeah I s'pose so. It was a long time ago, but I really
don't remember it hurting," I said casually. How long had it been
since those first inexperienced and tentative explorations with my
friends. Thirty years. I smiled at Dylan as I admitted to him, "We
were pretty inexperienced. We tried, but we really didn't know what
to do. Without any lubricant,... well it doesn't go in that far.
But we didn't know that at the time."
"Oh!" the boy smirked in surprise at this new information,
then looked up at me cheekily, "So.... have you done it again since,
after you found out how to do it properly?"
I laughed as I shook my head, "Now you ARE getting personal,
Dylan. You didn't like your friend Gary telling other boys about
you, well this isn't any different."
"I s'pose but..." he trailed off, now intensely curious and
very aware that his throbbing cock was painfully hard and sticking
straight up into the blue nylon of his swimming shorts. "Yeah, I
guess,.... but I wouldn't tell anyway." He grinned at me cheekily,
"So what do you think out when you jerk off... masturbate, anyway."
"I already told you. I dream about making love to you."
"Sure, but what. What do we do?" he asked persistently.
"You really want to know huh? Exactly?" I teased. Dylan
nodded. "Okay, I usually begin by kissing you."
"On the lips?" the boy interrupted.
"Huh huh. Then I start down, kissing your neck and shoulders
as I start taking off your shirt. I kiss all the way to your belly
button and after I've worked over your tummy for a bit, I take off
your shorts and underpants, and start kissing junior."
I glanced at Dylan, he had reddened slightly but he was both
fascinated and eager for me to continue. I could see the pulse in
his throat, his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply, trying
to control the excitement that now raged throughout him. "Yeah? You
kiss me on my dick?" he said, his voice breaking slightly and
unusually husky, a clear sign of the boy's arousal. "Then what?"
he added in a whisper.
"Well then I start licking and sucking on junior," I answered.
"What,... what do I do to you?"
I grinned, "Mostly you just lie back and enjoy it. When he's
really hard I start to suck on your balls while I get your rear-
end ready." Dylan had turned a bright shade of pink again and he
was looking down in vivid embarrassment. "You want me to stop?" He
shook his head so I went on. "So after a while, when my finger can
go inside your rear-end pretty easily, I turn you over onto your
front and put it inside you so we can make love."
Dylan swallowed, "Do I like it?" I nodded and he swallowed
again. "You know,... well it hasn't got to be like that,... be a
dream, like that," he added quietly, his voice trembling with
barely concealed excitement.
"Hi Dylan," my son called as he came over to us, still dripping
water, his swimming lesson now finished.
Dylan jerked in surprise, swinging his head around in a sudden
reflex, "Oh hi. You were swimming great. We were watching you," he
smiled shyly, feeling his excitement , and probably his erection,
deflate in an instant.
I smiled, adding, "Hi tiger, how did it go? Dylan was
absolutely right when said he thinks you're doing great."
"Okay, my back floating's getting better, Steve said so too,"
he said.
"I guess I better go practice some myself," Dylan said. "Heh,
what we talked about, you gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay,"
he asked nervously.
I grinned at the boy, "Who am I going to tell? Of course I
promise." I added seriously, "So Dylan, do you want to come to the
farm with us tomorrow." I asked.
"Huh?" Dylan looked at me questioningly.
"Do you want to come out with us tomorrow and go horse-back
riding. That is, assuming that it isn't raining." I said
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. I've never been but I guess I'd
like it. I wouldn't know what to do, I'll probably just get in the
way," he answered uncertainly.
"Well, there's probably a lot of things you don't know how to
do, but I'm sure you're a fast learner." I grinned at the boy
playfully, wondering whether he caught my message. "We'll pick you
up at your place, probably around 9.00 or 10.00. I'll call your mom
tonight to make sure it's okay if you want me to. All you've got
to bring is an old pair of jeans."
The boy was clearly excited, his sexual arousal now replaced
by a different kind of excitement, "Yeah, that'd be great. Heh I'll
see you tomorrow morning then, okay," he said happily.
"And by the way, don't worry about it." I called after him as
he came quickly to his feet and started toward the diving board.
He turned, grinned and waved, then with an elegant leap, sliced
into the water with a perfectly executed dive that left little more
than a ripple on the surface.
Chapter 5. A Day at the Farm
The next morning we were up, showered, and breakfasted by
8.15. I had been certain that my wife would not be able to come out
to the farm when I extended the invitation to Dylan. Increasingly,
her work was taking her out of the city and this weekend was not
going to be an exception. She still had not returned from her trip
to New York and when she'd called in the evening I had told
her about inviting the boy out to the farm. She didn't mind, after
all he would probably be company for me when Kelly went off to play
with his friend who lived on the farm next to ours.
Unsure of what twelve-year-old boys liked to eat for lunch, I
threw a a six-pack of coke, a couple of light beers, bread, cheese,
a tomato, and half a dozen other goodies into a box. It was late
summer and after the rain, the weather had turned cooler. Still, the
morning was not cold enough for a jacket, and it would certainly
warm up during the day, so I had dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved
checked shirt, just like Dylan. I thought about driving the
Corvette, knowing the excitement that it would give Dylan if I
blasted it on the freeway, but I decided that he'd probably have
more fun with the four-wheel-drive on some of the rough trails
through the woods. Exactly at 8.30, I pulled up in the driveway of
the boy's house. Dylan had been waiting at the front door and he
came flying out, his lithe body jumping down the four or five steps
at the porch, then running up to the car. He was obviously very
excited. The boy was dressed exactly as I had expected, with faded
blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway
up his brown slender arms. When I'd called on Friday evening, Diane
had been glad that I'd invited her son out to the farm and she
followed him down to the car arriving just as Dylan climbed into
the front seat next to me.
"You behave yourself, honey," she said as she smiled at me.
The boy shrugged and lifted his eyes up in playful desperate
plea. Even as he smiled at me, his grin revealed what I thought was
barely controlled lust. After our long conversation the previous
day I was pretty sure what was on the boy's mind,... the same thing
that was on mine. "Yeah, mom, sure thing," he replied.
"Thanks for taking him with you," his mother said to me. "You
will be careful if you go riding won't you. Dylan hasn't been on a
horse before."
I laughed, "Don't worry, if we go riding he'll use probably
use Kelly's pony or my wife's horse. There's never been a slower
horse."
"Okay. I can expect to see him after dinner, huh?" she asked.
I nodded, almost impatient to be off, "Around nine probably.
We won't leave until sunset and we'll probably get dinner on the
way back."
Dylan was similarly eager to leave, "Bye mom, see you
tonight," he called out.
"Bye honey,.... and be careful. Okay?"
Dylan nodded as I engaged reverse and backed up the drive onto
the street. As we pulled away he sighed in feigned desperation and
I laughed, "Mothers! They're all like that, aren't they Kelly?."
My son nodded and the older boy grinned as he fastened his
seat belt and settled back in the seat, his legs stretched out
before him. His jeans were old and well worn, maybe a year old, and
the denim had softened. They were a close fit to his slender body
but not too tight. His genitals formed a small but very obvious
bulge between his legs and the way he sat there with his legs apart
made it quite clear what he wanted to display. This car was no
Corvette but it was still going to be a fun trip.
We laughed, talked, and listened to Beach Boys' classics the
whole way to the farm, the one-hour trip seeming to take much less
time than it ever had before. When we pulled into the road that led
to the farm Kelly decided that he wanted to stop of at his friend's
house. I was more than agreeable to that suggestion. Luckily, they
were home and he went off to play with his friend, promising to
call later on in the afternoon. I smiled at the boy next to me as
I reversed out of the drive and back down to the road. We were alone
now, just the two of us and the knowledge that we had shared the
previous day.
I had Dylan get out, open, and then close the gate to our
property. He jumped back in the car, grinning, "Are we really gonna
ride?" he asked, his enthusiasm barely contained.
I grinned back at him, "What ever you want. I thought we'd
take a ride around the farm, maybe go for a swim in the creek."
"Yeah! Oh! Damn, I didn't bring my costume," he said angrily.
"So? You can go skinny-dipping," I laughed, then added as I
took the biggest risk of my life, and deliberately looked down at
the small but obvious bulge in the soft denim between his slender
legs, "I'm sure you've got nothing to be ashamed of down there."
Dylan blushed, he was easily embarrassed by my overt
assessment of his emerging sexuality despite our long conversation
the day before. He was silent, not angry or sulky but pensive, as
we drove the rest of the way to the farm. He needed time to come
to grips with the strange feelings and the confusion of his
emerging desires. His thoughts were complicated by the knowledge
that what interested him, what excited him more than he could
stand, was something that people made crude jokes about. He looked
up as I stopped the car in front of the house and smiled shyly.
"What's the problem?" I asked gently.
Dylan shrugged, "Nothing, well I was just thinking,... you
know about what we talked about yesterday afternoon. About,... what
we said,... and well,... well I,... I just want you to know that I
like you,... a lot,... really I do."
I reached out letting my fingers brush the boy's soft cheek,
wondering what it would be like to kiss that perfect mouth, to taste
his sweet breath as it mingled with mine. I felt as though I was
rushing headlong into something I could no longer control, and I
swallowed, trying to get my racing thoughts back under control.
"I,... I like you too Dylan, I like you a great deal." I wanted to
tell him that I loved him, that he was all that I thought about,
that I dreamed of him every night, but the words escaped me and I
sat there looking into his pale blue eyes as they searched mine.
he was just twelve-years-old, an innocent child and my thoughts
were disgusting in their depravity. I opened the door and got out
of the car, breathing in the fresh morning air, grateful for the
escape from the confinement of the car, of my own struggle.
Dylan got out of the passenger-side and looked around him,
"It's beautiful here", he said quietly.
I looked over at the beautiful young boy, the sun glistening
in his golden-blond hair, his tanned skin radiating the vitality
of youth. It was a wonderful picture, a memory to keep for all time.
The farm had always been a beautiful place but it was nothing in
comparison to now, graced by Dylan's presence. I opened the rear
door and lifted out the box of food and drink and walked over to
the house. Dylan hesitated for a minute looking around and taking
in the view down the valley, then he turned and ran after me. "This
is awesome. I had no idea,... wait till I tell mom. So where are
the horses?" he asked excitedly as we went inside.
I laughed, as we went into the kitchen "Wait about a minute.
You'll see." I put a few things in the refrigerator and then went
to the back door. Dylan followed me and we went outside. From the
back porch he saw the barn and the three horses grazing in the
field.
His eyes opened wide and he turned to me with happiness
bursting from his face. "Wow, this is awesome, truly awesome."
"Don't you know any other words besides awesome? Come on
Dylan, let's go catch us some horses," I laughed, stepping off the
porch and leading the way over to the fence. The horses needed no
catching, as soon as they saw us they cantered over to greet us. I
watched as Dylan stretched out his hand tentatively to stroke my
horse's nose, "What's her name?"
I grinned, "Well first she is a he, if you care to look
underneath you can see the difference. Well almost, he's missing
some vital equipment, he's a gelding you see. His name is
Pandemonium. Over there is Dancer, and the little one is Zombie,
that's Kelly's."
"What's a gelding?" Dylan asked, "I mean I've heard the word
and all but what is it? Is it a breed or something?"
I smiled at the boy, "He's a Palomino. A gelding is a male
horse that can't make babies,... because his balls are cut off."
"His balls? Yuk! that's gross man. But why?" the boy
continued, his curiosity unabated.
I smiled at the boy's discomfort, wondering whether my answer
had made his own testicles tighten up instinctively, protectively.
"A stallion can be pretty difficult to control. When he'd gelded,
usually it's done when he's quite young, it quietens him down a
lot."
"Oh! Which one do I get to ride?" he asked now bubbling with
excitement.
"You pick, either Dancer or Zombie. Personally I'd pick Dancer
if I was you. It's harder to get on her and it's a longer distance
to fall off, but she can move a bit quicker than Zombie."
"Okay! Hi Dancer, guess I'm gonna ride you huh?" he said,
transferring his affection to the mare.
I laughed, then climbed onto the fence, hitched one leg over
the top rail and dropped to the ground on the other side. Dylan
followed in one easy movement, almost vaulting over the fence. The
horses followed up into the barn. They had already been fed that
morning and I opened the gate and brought out two saddles, blankets
and bridles. Dylan had no idea of what to do, but he watched
intently as I saddled Pandemonium first, then Dancer. I had to
shorten the stirrups by a few inches and then I helped him up into
the saddle. It was a stretch but once I'd got the boy started on
his way up he swung into the saddle. He grinned down at me proudly,
his eyes flashing, as he clasped the reins uncertainly.
"Hi down there," he giggled.
"Hi up there. How does if feel?" I asked.
"Awesome. When she moves it's wild. Sure is a long way to fall
off but."
I laughed, "Don't worry, you won't fall off. Press your knees
inward, you can hold on to the hair, or the saddle."
"How do I make her go forward?" he asked as I climbed onto the
other horse.
"That's easy, all you do is nudge her with your heels, very
gently, kind of a squeeze really, you don't have to kick at a horse.
Then pull on either side of the reins, to go either way, or all at
once to stop. But do it gently, remember there's a steel bit in her
mouth."
Dylan was a fast learner, within five minutes he was walking
the horse around, guiding it carefully and stopping when I told him
to. Cantering was a bit more fun and he yelled with joy as Dancer
broke out from a trot into a faster pace. Within a few seconds he'd
reached the far fence and he turned the horse into a graceful curve
and came cantering back. All he could say was "Wow! That was just
awesome. Truly awesome."
"Come on, Dylan, I think you're ready for the big time", I
said, leading the way to the gate. I leaned over, opened the gate
and shepherded the boy and his horse outside, before I closed it.
Together we started down towards the road, cutting off before
we reached the main road and following the track up into the woods.
Already the sun was high in the sky and it was beginning to get
hot. We rode back up into the woods, following the fence line until
it disappeared into the undergrowth, then continuing on the trail.
After about half an hour we reached the top of the hill and we
paused to let the horses rest. Dylan was already becoming more
comfortable in the saddle, no longer afraid that he would fall off,
he rested his left hand just on the saddle, holding the reins with
his right. Sitting astride the horse in the late-morning sun, the
sun glistening on his ruffled golden-blond hair, the boy was dream,
a perfect summer's dream. He breathed deeply as he looked around.
"This is fun but it sure is getting hot, isn't it? Am I doing okay?"
he asked after a long silence.
I nodded, guiding my horse over to his so that we were side
by side. "Huh huh. You're doing great. You can take your shirt off
if you want cowboy."
Dylan twisted in the saddle as he unfastened the buttons of
his shirt, then in one deft movement lifted it up and pulled his
arms through. He tied the shirt arms around the saddle horn then
looked over to me. I was sitting still and silent, engrossed in my
inspection of the boy's fabulous torso, oblivious to the world
around me. The boy was lean, there was practically no fat on him,
not even the puppy fat that boy's his age are supposed to accumulate
ready for the growth demands of puberty, the silky brown skin at
his belly making fine ripples at his belt. Suddenly I realized the
boy's awareness of my intense scrutiny, "You're beautiful Dylan,"
I said awkwardly, removing my own shirt and tying it to the saddle
the same way.
Dylan looked at me, folding his bottom lip inward
thoughtfully. "Boys are handsome or good looking, they aren't
beautiful," he corrected playfully, but visibly enjoying the
compliment.
I smiled at the boy, "Well you are," I said unable to control
the incredible feeling of desire for him, my wanton hunger for the
boy next to me overpowering any restraint that I had.
He smirked at me, almost knowingly, "Yeah?" He looked down at
the ground for a moment watching his horse eating grass. When he
looked up again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "What we
talked about yesterday,... you know,... is it terribly wrong to
want to do those things?"
I breathed out and paused, trying to find the right words, "I
don't thing it's wrong. Dylan, when people are very fond of each
other,... well it's normal to have strong feelings for each other.
Those feelings are natural, they make us want to do things,
together. The things we talked about are, well they aren't bad or
wrong for us...."
Dylan sighed and looked away out over the valley. I knew the
boy was confused, but so was I. "Does it mean I'm,... we're gay?"
he asked.
"Being gay is nothing to be ashamed off. If that's what we
both want? If we're both very fond of each other." I answered
gently, again aware that we were rushing at full speed into what
could only be both disastrous and painful for the boy. But I was
unable to resist.
"I,... I'm not sure. I,... I don't want to be gay, but," the
boy said hesitantly. "I want you to be my friend the way I pretend
when I jerk off but, being gay,... all the guys at school make jokes
about them."
I nodded at the boy, smiling reassuringly, "They don't have
to find out. If no one knows but us.... Come on let's ride down to
the creek." I said, changing the subject abruptly and I pulled on
the reins and lifted the horse's head upward.
I knew the boy appreciated the interruption. He had to sort
his confusion of feelings and desires out for himself, and it would
take time.
We rode down the hill, cantering the horses on the open
sections, then following the track back around past the farmhouse
towards the creek. We followed the creek up past the fields,
ducking low over our horses as we went though the woods. There was
no trail here, just the noise of our horses and the sounds of birds
and animals in the trees and the gurgle and splash of the creek.
Finally we reached a small clearing and we dismounted. I showed
Dylan how to remove a saddle and then stood back watching as he
tried to do the same with Dancer. We left the horses in the clearing
and scrambled down the hill towards the creek. A deep pool had been
formed by some large rocks, the water was dark and inviting. There
in the shade of the trees we stopped, looking out at the pool. "It's
really beautiful here," Dylan said at last.
"Yes it is," I agreed, looking at the half naked boy before
me, silently admiring his firmly muscled back, his lean strong
shoulders and narrow waist, the knobby spine that disappeared under
the denim of his jeans, revealing the boy's rounded small buttocks
and the deep cleft between his cheeks. He turned and grinned, "We
really gonna swim naked?" he asked.
"Nobody can see us, Dylan", I replied.
"Yeah. I know. I haven't done this before."
"So there's a first time for everything. You can wear your
underpants if you want," I teased, then added, "but I'm not."
I began to unfasten my belt, aware that Dylan watched
intently. I kicked of my shoes, pushed my jeans and briefs down my
legs, then tugged them over my feet. I knew that Dylan's attention
had been focused on my genitals the whole time, unable to drag his
eyes away, he'd started in fascination and quickly building
arousal. Naked, I straightened up again, meeting Dylan's eyes
shamelessly. He reddened slightly, licking his bottom lip as he
swallowed nervously, unable to speak.
"Well?" I said looking at the boy curiously.
"He's huge," the boy said in awe as he glanced down at my
stiffening cock.
I laughed, "It's not THAT big. Well I'm going for a swim," I
announced.
Dylan hesitated, almost trembling with excitement as his eyes
dropped downward again, an unfamiliar and frightening surge making
his heart pound and his own small penis began to respond
immediately and instinctively. "You gotta promise..." the boy
whispered at last. I raised my eyebrows as I smiled at the boy.
"You gotta promise never to tell anyone, okay."
I grinned, "Like I said before, I'm sure you've got nothing
to ashamed of down there, Dylan."
He blushed, "It's not that, I know mine's tiny compared to
yours. But it's not that...." he said, too embarrassed to finish.
I nodded, "Yours ought to be smaller, you've only just turned
twelve after all. It'll get bigger as you get older." My cock had
reached the point of full erection now, swollen and dark as it
pulsed with unabashed and unrestrained hunger for the young boy
standing before me.
Dylan nodded then brushed his hair back from his forehead
barely aware of the effect he was having on me, trying to control
his own body's response to its emerging desires, still fighting the
admission of his own sexuality. He sighed, slowly, finally coming
to the truth that now confronted him. "You gotta promise not to get
angry? I don't want you to get angry, okay... I wanly do that stuff
we talked about okay yesterday. I think you do too, but I don't
want anyone else to know, okay. You do, don't you?"
I smiled reassuringly, "More than anything else in the world,"
I answered honestly. "It's all I've thought about from the first
time I saw in the ice-cream store." The boy looked at me
uncertainly, as I added, "You're a very beautiful young boy. Most
people would think that I was a terrible person to want to love
you. It's even against the law, until you're older, much older."
"But you're not terrible!" the boy exclaimed. "I want you too,
I want to love you."
I smiled, "Nobody can ever know Dylan, not your mom, not your
best friend, no one. They might not understand."
The boy nodded, then slowly, shyly, his hands moved to his
waist, his small slender fingers deftly unfastening his belt
buckle, then his metal button, then his zipper. The V of his fly
opened, revealing the white of his jockeys underneath. Then he
kicked off his shoes, turned away from me in modesty and bent
forward. With one foot off the ground and then the other, he
balanced, removing his socks, jeans and underpants and leaving them
in an untidy heap near mine. With the boy bent over I could see
only his bare slender brown legs, the paleness of his thighs,
untouched by the sun, the perfect round globes of his small cheeks,
the ribs defined on his well-tanned chest. He straightened up and
turned around, shedding his inhibitions in that one simple motion.
His now-naked body was dappled in the sunshine as it trickled
through the trees but a single unbroken ray fell across his
genitals. Like me, the boy was fully erect though his penis
couldn't have been much more than three and half inches long. It
was thick at the base and it swelled slightly before it tapered to
a tiny reddish-pink cherry-shaped tip. Like me, Dylan was
circumcised, his tiny blue veins seemed to bulge under the very
delicate flesh. Beneath his throbbing hard cock, his testicles
seemed insignificant, small rounded swellings in the pink folded
pouch of his scrotum. Obviously the onset of puberty was still some
time away. The boy's pubis was perfectly smooth, without even the
slightest trace of hair. It was rounded and prominent, accentuated
by the narrowness of his hips and the slenderness of his body, it
seemed to make his genitals more exposed.
The boy smirked as he looked up into my staring eyes, "Well?"
he demanded.
"You're,... you're beautiful Dylan," I acknowledged. "You
have a wonderful body."
"Yeah?", he grinned, "You don't think I'm too skinny. My
dick's pretty small but isn't it? I told you it was tiny didn't I."
I laughed, "You're built just right. And no, your dick is just
perfect. Come on let's go for a swim, first. But no diving, okay."
Dylan nodded, suddenly relieved, it was as if the pressure
that had been building up inside him was released, the tension, the
frightening surge, the pounding of his heart, the incredible,
almost painful hardness in his penis began to fade. Together, side
by side we walked down into the cool refreshing water. We began to
swim, slowly relaxing, our pale naked bodies barely visible in the
dark water, around and around, splashing and giggling like two
uninhibited kids, slowly becoming playful grabs and hugs devoid of
the overpowering desires we'd experienced earlier but accustoming
our bodies to the touch of the other.
Finally we swam up to the large rocks that had blocked the
flow of water in the creek. There was a narrow crevice between the
rocks, it was little more than a foot wide, and we scrambled out
of the water, almost oblivious to our nakedness. Like me, Dylan's
erection had long since vanished, withdrawing to a small appendage
that hung downward, his balls tightening to form a tiny wrinkled
knot of flesh that was barely visible between his legs. Dylan
grinned cheekily, "Now my dick is really small," he observed.
I smiled back at him, "Huh huh, but it won't be for long, I
bet." I lead the way up into the crevice between the rocks, picking
my way cautiously because it was barely wide enough. Dylan slide
though easily, laughing as he called out, "Don't get stuck, okay.
I don't know how I'd get you out."
The crevice ran for about fifteen feet, sloping upward at
about 45 degrees before it ended. We emerged into an open area that
was bathed in sun. It was very quiet and private, ideal for what I
had in mind, above and behind us were a rock wall and pine trees,
in front and to the sides the huge boulders, the only access through
the slot and across the pool. The ground was covered with a thick
layer of pine needles. I turned to Dylan as he emerged from the
crevice behind me. For an instant he looked around, then his eyes
met mine and he breathed out slowly, "Heh, this is a nice place,"
he observed as he nodded. It was almost as if I could read his mind,
the thoughts that were initiated deep in his sub-conscious, halted
momentarily by his innocence and inhibition, then unchallenged grew
into the same hunger that I felt. "Yeah, this is really nice," he
added in a voice that was suddenly husky with excitement.
We stood not much more than a foot apart and I reached out and
for the second time that day stroked the unbelievable softness of
his cheek. This time my fingers lingered, the tips barely caressing
the lobe of his ears, then tracing downward back over his cheek.
The boy breathed deeply as my fingers touched his lips, swallowing
with nervous anticipation, his pale blue eyes shining. His body
quivered at my touch, full of life and excitement, eager and at
last unable to resist that desire that finally conquered the
frantic pleadings of his mind. His pulse rate rocketed as his heart
began to pound. His lips parted slightly as his breathing grew
stronger. "Yeah," the boy huskily whispered again as he nodded his
willingness to me. I watched his slender brown chest begin to rise
and fall with the rapid increase in his breathing, he licked his
bottom lip, the wet tip of his tongue brushing my fingers, he
trembled like a frightened faun, then suddenly aware of the growing
heat and hardness between his legs, risked a glimpse downward.
Already his cock had shrugged off its cold-induced stupor,
thickening, hardening, lengthening even as he looked at it. Then
he noticed my cock, dominating his own small sex organ by its very
size and power, its stiffening provoked by him, by his beautiful
body. "Our dicks are getting stiff", he observed huskily without
looking up.
"Huh huh," I said quietly, glancing downward. I watched as the
boy's penis became engorged, swelling and lifting upwards until it
was nearly parallel to his belly, pointing up into the air towards
his navel. Instinctively testing his readiness, the boy flexed the
muscles deep inside his body, tightening his sphincter and making
his cock jerk. My own cock, now fully hard protruded at right angles
to my body. It was more than seven inches long, twice the length
of Dylan's but many times larger. The boy looked at it in silent
fascination, awed by its size compared to his. My fingers were
still caressing the boy's face and I lifted his chin, bringing his
eyes up to meet mine. "Now what?" the boy asked uncertainly.
My hand slipped around his neck, my fingers pushing into the
silky soft curls at the nape, pulling him gently but irresistibly
towards me. I remembered reading somewhere that young boys didn't
like kissing but I wanted only to taste his perfect mouth, to savor
the boy's delicate lips. I wanted him to like it, to kiss me back...
I went slowly, his uplifted face only inches away, following his
questioning, unblinking innocent eyes with mine, then cautiously,
almost not to frighten him I leaned forward, brushing my lips
against the soft cool skin of his forehead. "Whatever you want," I
whispered. Dylan nodded as I kissed his forehead again. The twelve-
year-old boy shivered with cold and uncontrollable excitement,
uncertain of what he wanted. He trembled as he tilted his head back
slightly, pursing his lips as he breathed in. My lips brushed
gently against his for an instant before I pulled back. He
swallowed, still uncertain but willing to trust me, willing to go
further, sensing the memory of that first hesitant kiss. The boy
nodded again and my fingers tightened on the back of his neck,
lifting, guiding his mouth back to mine. Again the boy hesitated,
his lips dry and unyielding but he didn't pull away. After a brief
touch I pulled back. He opened his mouth to say something but I
gently hushed him, then leaned forward again. This time was
different and the boy yielded, his lips softening against mine, his
mouth opening slightly as he returned the kiss. This time I didn't
pull back, letting the boy discover the intimacy of a kiss. When
we finally parted the boy was breathless, "Yeah," he sighed in
relief, then breathed deeply, his small hand coming to his mouth,
the tips of his fingers touching the wetness on his lips, grinning
slightly
"You like that?" I teased playfully.
"Huh huh."
I pulled Dylan back to me again, bringing our mouths into
contact one more time, this time my tongue pressing forward,
touching the boy's lips, then gently squeezing inside. I felt the
boy quiver in surprise but he didn't pull back. His tongue pulled
back, making room for mine, his teeth biting lightly on my tongue,
keeping it inside his mouth. Still not used to prolonged kissing
and the need to breath through his nose, in maybe twenty seconds
Dylan pulled back gasping suddenly. "You,... you put your tongue
in my mouth," he said in an accusatory tone.
"Huh huh. You mind?" The boy shook his head as he considered
it and smiled. "You use your tongue too but you gotta breath through
your nose," I added drawing the boy's mouth back to mine. This kiss
was wet and hot and it went on and on for a full minute. After a
few moments with my tongue inside Dylan's mouth, I felt the boy's
tongue tentative probing, the firm wriggling tongue pressing into
my lips, rubbing against my teeth as he explored, then reassured
that I wouldn't bite it off, pushed forward. I sucked the boy's
tongue inside, dropping my hands downward, clasping his naked cool
body, sliding over the bumps of his spine, then filling with the
round soft flesh of his cheeks, the tips of fingers pressing into
the warm depth of his crack, lifting the boy upward slightly.
Dylan's instincts were strong and the boy needed no encouragement
as he responded, his slender arms locking around my waist in a bear-
hug, his mouth and tongue working quickly, exploring, testing,
playing with mine. As we hugged and kissed, the thick, hard shaft
of my cock pressed into the boy's belly, his own hot throbbing cock
squeezing against my thigh. As our kiss finished, I began to kiss
his forehead, his cheeks, his eyes, then back to his mouth,
sometimes taking the lead, at other times relinquishing control to
Dylan. The boy began to move his hips, humping against my leg,
rubbing his cock to get some relief, pushing my cock hard into his
flat brown belly, against his now dry warm skin. Both of us breathed
hard and fast, the boy making little high-pitched whimpering sounds
like a puppy while I groaned in ecstasy.
After near five minutes, during which I thought I might climax
nearly any second, I eased the boy down onto the ground. I followed
him down as he reached out for me shamelessly and I lay over him,
taking my most of weight on my knees and elbows, but keeping enough
weight on Dylan so that he was barely able to move. For what I
wanted, for what would follow, the boy had to accept my authority,
to accept his passive role. It wasn't that I wanted the boy to be
inert or powerless, but I had to prevail in order to protect him.
We continued to kiss, each time longer and more passionate than the
last, then finally I pulled away, my hands stroking the smooth soft
skin of his flanks as I began to kiss his slender neck and
shoulders, licking and sucking on the delicate flesh again and
again until I left small reddish blotches. Then I moved downward,
my lips seeking his tiny dark nipples, sucking until they were
hard, my hands caressing his arms, legs, thighs, belly, anywhere
but his genitals. I reached his belly, my tongue leaving wet
glistening trails on his satin brown skin, tickling his navel until
my saliva was pooled in, smearing the wetness over him, nibbling
and suckling as I worshipped his slender brown body. All the while
Dylan writhed and twisted in shameless and unbridled pleasure,
giggling when I tickled, sighing as I moved ever closer to his
genitals, always making a quiet whining murmur that conveyed his
delight.
In my long passage downward, Dylan's cock seemed to have
become even harder, the tiny bluish veins bulging, the little tip
flushed and swollen. Unlike my cock which was oozing pre-cum,
Dylan's cock was dry but very hungry for my attention. I gave it a
friendly, playful lick, starting at the rounded wrinkled ball-sac
and going all the way to the tip. Dylan gasped, "Oh yeah," flexing
his cock in my face to show his eagerness. My hands moved to the
boy's knees, gently parting his legs, then sliding up the inside
until my fingers brushed into the furrow between his legs that led
back into his crack, or up to his scrotum and penis. For a moment
I considered which way to go, either direction was temptation.
Dylan made the choice for me, "Suck my dick!" he pleaded huskily.
"Aren't you 'sposed to say please?" I teased, now convinced
that I should turn him onto his belly and continued on the other
side of the boy.
The boy giggled, placing both of his hands on my head and
pushing me downward, guiding my head to his groin, positioning my
mouth at his aching hard cock. I opened my mouth and welcomed the
boy inside, easily taking the short hard shaft as I heard him sigh
with instant gratification. I didn't stop there and I went on down,
opening my mouth wide and sucking in both of his immature balls as
well. Dylan's back arched, trying to fuck my face as he began to
thrust, forcing his thighs into my face as his buttocks lifted
right off the ground. I slide my hand underneath his cheeks then
pushed him downward to restrict his wild thrusting. I wasn't
worried about the boy climaxing, even if he did it would be dry and
he'd be still as horny as he was now I curled my forefinger so that
I could rub into his crack, feeling for the little puckered
opening. I don't think he'd ever done that with anyone else. I knew
that he'd masturbated with Gary and I suspected that he'd sucked
Gary's cock but I also knew that his sex life had come to an abrupt
halt when he'd wanted Gary's penis inside his butt.
"Oh yeah!" he sighed in lust, squeezing down hard onto my
finger so that the tip pushed into him up to the first joint.
Gently I probed into the boy's body, feeling the heat and
tightness of his virgin anus resist me. I rubbed him gently, moving
my finger around and around. The boy trembled, moving his hips on
my finger, trying to get the finger deeper into him. "You like that,
Dylan?" I teased, finally pulling my mouth away from his cock and
balls, leaving them coated and glistening with my saliva. He
nodded. "What do you want me to do first. Front or back?"
The boy smirked. "Put it in further, okay", he begged, "as far
as you can."
"Say please."
The boy giggled, "Please".
"Okay," I laughed, retracting my finger outward and pulling
my hand out from under him. The look of disappointment on the boy's
face from the interruption to his pleasure was instant and
gratifying. "Turn over onto your tummy and spread those cheeks,
Dylan," I commanded. The boy needed no further instruction and as
I moved away he twisted over lying face down on the pine needles,
legs wide apart, each hand clasping one of cheeks and parting his
buttocks, exposing the full depth of his crack. For the first time
I saw the boy's anus, the darkened opening, puckered almost like
tiny lips. As I looked I wondered, thinking that my cock would never
fit inside him It would stretch of course, but from the look of it,
never that big, never in a million years, or least another four
years. Then I did something that I'd only ever dreamed about. I
leaned forward, pushed my tongue out and licked the full length of
boy's crack. He shuddered as he felt the warm wetness of my tongue.
"That feels awesome. But,... but isn't it dirty back there?" he
asked awkwardly.
I lifted my head up. "You've just been swimming Dylan. It's
perfectly clean. Besides, nothing we can do together is dirty. Not
if we both want to do it," I answered. I went back and tongued him
again, this time adding saliva and wetting the boy's crack
thoroughly before I began to probe his opening. He sighed, his legs
moving in trembling shakes as the tip of my tongue penetrated just
inside him. He seemed to loosen almost immediately, there was
little resistance to my tongue so I went still further, deeper and
deeper until my nose was squeezing into his crack. There was a
faintly musky odor, a smell that I liked very much indeed. I moved
my other hand between his outstretched legs, reaching upward until
my fingers brushed against his ball-sac, then I began to rub and
squeeze them, working the two tiny nuts together or individually,
not hard enough to give the boy any real pain but enough to let him
experience for the first time, the intense delight that borders on
pain. He responded shamelessly, trying to force his buttocks upward
to get more of my tongue inside him, grinding his genitals into my
hand, unable to achieve the release of climax but perfectly capable
of enjoying the feelings that preceded it. I deliberately avoided
contact with his penis. I knew it was rock hard and throbbing and
the boy was frantically trying to rub in against my hand but I
wanted to save that pleasure for last.
After nearly ten minutes the musky aroma had become stronger
and I lifted my head away to look down. The boy's anus was dilated
now, the puckered opening replaced by a wider opening that revealed
the dark crimson of his bowel. I licked my fingers, then gently
placed my forefinger at the entry into his body. He whimpered in
anticipated, then moaned as he felt my finger press down, sliding
easily inside. There was a momentary spasm, a brief tightening
pressure on my finger as his sphincter tightened, then I was
through. Exactly where a boy's prostate was located I had no idea,
but I knew that it would be small and not that far inside. As soon
as I reached just past the second joint I curled my finger and
pressed down towards the boy's cock. I was right on target. The boy
quivered and let out a little yelp, not of pain but of that
incredible boundless joy that starts deep inside. "Ohhhh, yeahhhh",
he gasped. I began to rub, gently at first, with careful strokes
around and around, teasing, testing, and probing the small lump.
Slowly the boy's own rectal mucus seeped down to provide much
needed lubrication, making my forefinger slide easier and greatly
increasing Dylan's pleasure. I quickly found that alternately
squeezing, then thrusting my finger back and forth seemed to
achieve the greatest response. I did really fast for almost a
minute and the boy started to gasp, his body shaking and writhing
uncontrollably on the ground. A minute more and he was shuddering,
grunting with each hard stroke of my finger as I rammed it into his
aching prostate. The tension in his anal band had all but
disappeared and I pushed in a second finger. With two fingers about
halfway inside the boy I began to wonder if maybe my cock might
fit. Then the boy's body began to jerk of its own volition, his
anus squeezing with brief locking spasms on my finger again and
again, his contractions coming infrequently but with frightening
intensity.
"You want me to stop?" I asked nervously.
"No. No, do it,...but faster", he hissed almost inaudibly, his
voice quavering.
My hand was getting tired but I tried to comply, tempted to
replace my fingers with my cock,but knowing that I'd cause nothing
but pain if I did it without lubrication. Then almost as soon as I
had decided to go for it the boy let out a yelp, a triumphant shriek
and he lunged back lifting his hips off the ground and driving my
fingers hard into his body. He squealed again then collapsed
shaking uncontrollably, his anus suddenly very loose on my fingers.
Dylan had orgasmed, his very first one, and I gently pulled my
fingers out, and settled down next to him and turning the boy onto
his side so that we were lying face to face. He was gasping for
air, sobbing between breaths, his face wet with tears, his lean
body coated with a sheen of perspiration.I looked down at the boy's
cock, the hardness had faded, replaced by more overwhelming
feelings, but the tip seemed to be wet. I squeezed the small half-
erect shaft between my mucus-coated fingers, extracting a tiny
crystal-clear bead. With the tip of finger I lifted if off,
bringing my hand up to my mouth and licking it off. There was no
taste to it, but the pungent musky smell from the inside of the
boy's body was 'awesome'. I sniffed at my fingers, it was a smell
not unlike sardines, without the oiliness. Dylan slowly regained
his breathing but he was exhausted. He looked at me curiously, his
expression clearly indicating the nature of his question. I
grinned, "You had an orgasm, young man. This stuff is from inside
you. I guess you could call it butt juice."
"Was,...Was I,...okay?", he asked breathlessly.
"You were wonderful?" I said gently as I caressed his
forehead, brushing his dishevelled hair back. "You were
incredible."
The boy was still shaking, frightened by the very intensity,
the unexpectedness of what had happened. "It felt as if,... as if
something kind of burst inside me."
I nodded and stroked his cheek with my thumb, "It's okay.
You'll feel better in a few minutes."
The boy swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts, "It was
wild. It feels really strange inside, sort of funny in there....
Sure is kind of messy but, isn't it. I thought I was gonna poop on
your fingers," he said as he looked at my hand.
I grinned and poked out my tongue and tentatively licked my
fingers. I didn't mind the taste at all, especially when it had
come from the beautiful naked boy lying beside me. I lifted his
golden-blond head up, slid my arm around his shoulders protectively
and repositioned his body so that he was cuddled into my side, his
head resting on my shoulder.
It took Dylan about ten minutes to fully recover. He lay still
at first, his breathing slowly becoming more relaxed. He was very
quiet, his body drained of its young energy, basking in the
afterglow of the orgasm that has overwhelmed him. For a long while
there was a shy, almost innocent smile on his face, still flushed
from his exertions.Then he lifted his right leg up over my thighs,
pressing his knee against my groin gently. He looked up, his eyes
reflecting his eagerness, his desire to go further. He licked his
lips, flicking his tongue at me teasingly, then in a swift
movement, rolled over me so that his knees were on either side and
he straddled my hips. He sat above me triumphantly, grinning
cheekily as his fingers tickled my stomach and chest, my rapidly
hardening cock pressed in the boy's hot, moist crevice. He could
feel it getting stiff, every few seconds he squeezed down on it,
moving his hips backward and forward so that my cock was rubbed,
making it even harder until finally the head of it was against the
boy's balls or sticking out under his cock as he moved forward.
Dylan's cock responded of its own accord, growing erect almost
instantly to match the boy's excitement. Then we were both hard
again and Dylan looked down proudly, realizing what he'd done to
me, his eyes locked onto mine as he giggled teasingly, "You got
another hard-on," he observed, "So what do I do now?" he asked.
I grinned back at the boy. "What do you want to do?" I replied.
He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest, "I don't
know. Whatever? You can put it in my back side it you want? I
thought you were gonna do that earlier. I wanted you to."
"I thought about it. But not here. You're gonna need a lot of
lubrication back there before we try that. I don't think it would
fit anyway, and I don't want to hurt you by trying," I said
honestly.
Dylan pouted, "How do you know if you don't try? It might. I
don't care if it hurts a bit. Anyway, your fingers felt awesome, I
thought I was gonna die, or explode, or something. I want you to
do with your dick inside me next time."
I laughed at the boy's expression of his lust. "Well you're
going to need some lubricant or it's going to hurt like hell."
"Okay! So what do I do now? is it my turn to do you?" he asked,
playfully reaching between his legs and squeezing the bulbous tip
of my cock with his fingers. "He's wet on top. There's slippery
stuff leaking out of the slit. It's clear but, and it's not milky
or spurting out like cum does."
"It's called pre-cum, it kind of leaks out when a guy get's
really excited," I answered, thinking of Dylan's first explorations
with his friend, his natural inclinations provoking his curiosity.
I could feel the threatening approach of orgasm, so close before,
now encouraged by the boy's rhythmic motion. I reached out,
stroking the boy's slender thighs with my finger tips, pushing
upward to his hips, then moving him further down my legs so that
he was no longer over my cock. "You keep doing that and it will be
spurting real fast."
Dylan giggled, "I don't mind if it gets on me. It's just sperm,
it's what you make babies with," he said expertly. "This stuff sure
is slippery but," he added, squeezing the head of my cock through
his fist and watching another bead of clear juice ooze out of the
slit.
"You said you and your friend Gary sucked each other once." I
said suggestively, wondering how far the boy's inhibitions
extended.
"Huh huh. Gary did it in my mouth one time. It doesn't taste
that bad, kinda thick and yucky, a bit salty I guess, but it was
okay. You want me to do that to you?" he asked, his voice suddenly
turning husky again, his body quivering with anticipation, the
memory of what he'd done to Gary re-playing insistently in his
mind.
"I want you to do what you want," I replied, gently rubbing
the boy's nipples with my finger tips as he leaned forward over me.
They stiffened to two tiny dark points as he sighed in enjoyment,
eyes half closed in bliss.
"Okay," he whispered, sliding further down my legs, his
buttocks resting on my knees. "But you gotta tell me when, okay,
so I'll be ready," he added looking up at me as he smirked. I nodded
and the boy took hold of my cock in his right hand, leaned forward,
licking his lips and opening his mouth as he came closer. I felt
his soft luscious tongue swirl over the head, felt the hot spongy
wetness, then his lips pushing past the tip, his tongue still
slurping on my cock as he took the head of it into his wide-open
mouth. He looked up expectantly, his eyes meeting mine shamelessly,
almost trying to smile around my cock-head. I nodded reassuringly,
flexing my cock hungrily, wanting him to take more of it. he looked
down and began to concentrate and I felt the boy's teeth nibbling
in the groove around the head of my cock, his tongue inspecting,
then trying to squeeze into the slit, his small soft hand squeezing
my balls gently. It was almost impossible to believe that he'd
learned to do this just after one time with a boy only one year
older than himself. He pulled back after about a minute to get his
breath. Dylan looked at me as my cock popped from his mouth,
grinning cheekily, "That feel okay?" he teased.
"Awesome!" I said. "You're not gonna to stop now?"
Dylan smirked as he wiped his wet lips with the back of his
hand, "No way man. I'm gonna suck you off. I want you to do it in
my mouth, okay."
He went back down, this time past going where he'd stopped
before, pushing down relentlessly as my cock surged into his mouth.
At twelve-years-old he was far to young to deep-throat me, but he
didn't stop until my cock reached the back of his mouth. He gagged,
pulling away as he coughed, smiling as he saw me. "He's too big to
go in all the way," he said as his coughing fit passed.
I laughed, "And you wanted me to put it in your butt huh? What
you've gotta do is not go down as far, breath through your nose and
use your hand to rub it."
"Oh!" he smirked, swallowing and taking another deep breath.
He went down again, this time not as far. I could feel the boy's
hot tongue, the soft squishiness of his mouth, the sharpness of his
teeth as they grazed the sensitive skin of my cock. He breathed
easier this time, sucking noisily on my cock, his saliva dribbling
from between his stretched lips and running down my cock. His right
hand grasped my cock near the base, his fingers wrapping around the
shaft and pressing into the underside. He began to masturbate me,
jerking his hand rapidly, expertly, lubricated by his saliva. After
a minute or so he glanced up and I nodded, sighing as waves of boy-
generated delight washed over me. Like any young and inexperienced
boy, Dylan didn't know that he either could or should prolong the
pleasure. He worked intently, his entire body focused on his
activity, mouth and hand totally synchronized, his blond head
bobbing up and own as his small hand stroked my cock relentlessly.
I felt the pleasure intensify, the warning sign of an imminent
orgasm, wanting the boy to stop and let it pass, my back arching,
leg muscles tightening, my cock flexing, straining, my balls
tightening. "Ohhh", I moaned, "Ohhhh God, do it Dylan, do it
faster." The boy responded with his boundless energy, his blond
head jerking, his rhythm interrupted, "Yeahhhh, Ohhhhh Dylan," I
gasped. I grabbed his head, my fingers locking into the golden-
blond hair behind his ears, forcing him down, thrusting my cock as
deep as I dared, to the back of his mouth and into this throat. I
felt my come rising up my shaft, the boy's hot juicy mouth sucking
frantically, then I exploded hot and thick spurts into him, down
into his throat. I felt Dylan beginning to choke, struggling to
pull away, then I pulled back, still spurting into his mouth, over
his tongue, my body quaking, my cock jerking and throbbing with
each additional spurt. I emptied my balls into the boy, it was the
longest orgasm I'd ever had, then finally with the dying spasms I
lifted the boy's head up, the last of it oozing out. Dylan's mouth
was half open, a look of shock and surprise on his face, then my
sperm began to trickle out from the side of his mouth. He breathed
heavily, gasping for air, his tongue covered with my come. He
smeared his hand over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, then I
pulled him forward, down so that he lay on top of me, and I kissed
him, long and hard on the lips, my tongue surging into his mouth,
tasting my come, embracing the boy's tongue, sharing the sweet
saltiness inside him until we subsided.
As soon as he got his breath back Dylan began to play kissing
games, sticking out his tongue and licking mine, or trying to put
it inside my mouth as far as he could. I held the boy tightly, one
hand caressing his slender back, the other fondly the baby-soft
flesh of his butt-cheeks, gently prising them apart and letting my
finger tips walk down into his crack, then lovingly stroke the
boy's small anus. Already he had tightened up, though not puckered
like before, the boy's opening was a lot smaller. After a few
minutes Dylan lifted up and smirked cheekily, "Well, did you like
that?" he asked cheekily. I nodded. "Boy you sure had a bunch but.
I thought it was never gonna stop coming out. I had to keep
swallowing."
I nodded. "You were incredible Dylan. I still don't believe
what we just did. Did you like it as much as I did?"
The twelve-year-old boy grinned, "Yeah! Of course I liked it.
Your stuff tastes a lot saltier than Gary's did but."
The boy settled down again and we hugged and kissed and
fondled each other for what seemed an hour or more. We teased and
tickled each other, our sex urges barely restrained. We were all
but satisfied by just being so close together, occasionally we'd
play with each other's cocks, sometimes even simulating frontal
intercourse by rubbing our cocks together, but never to the point
of orgasm. Even though Dylan was nearly fifteen inches shorter than
me, it was remarkable how well our bodies fitted together. It was
well past lunch time before we stopped. We weren't hungry, we could
have gone on forever but the sun had moved around so that we were
no longer shaded by the trees. The sun made us hot and sleepy, our
bodies covered with a glistening sheen of perspiration. Dylan sat
up and smiled, "I think I like the hugging and kissing stuff best."
"Why?" I asked, reaching out and caressing his bare brown
shoulder, letting my fingers slip down his arm.
"I don't know. I s'pose 'cause I feel really close to you. I
like everything else too, but when you hold me really tight and we
kiss, I just kind of feel really warm all over. I like that feeling
more than anything else." He shrugged, "You think I'm weird?"
"No, you're not weird. I like it too. It makes me feel very
close to you."
"I feel like that to, like I never want us to be apart, like
I want to be here with you forever.... What does it feel like? You
know in your backside? When a guy does it,..." he asked. "Does it
hurt a lot?" he asked quietly.
I shrugged. "I guess so, I don't really know Dylan. You're the
first boy I've done this with. I don't remember much when I was
younger. When I was a kid, I messed around a few times, I don't
remember it hurting that much."
"You know what you said about needing something to lubricate
me so's your cock could go in?" Dylan said. I looked up at the boy
and nodded. "Would lip-gel do? I got some in my jeans 'cause my
lips have getting a bit sore. Do you think we could use that?"
I laughed, tickling the boy until he giggled uncontrollably
and we wrestled playfully in the soft bed of pine needles, "Yes, I
guess we could use that. Are you really sure you want to do this?
It'll probably still hurt a lot, it might not even fit in there."
Dylan shrugged, "There's no way we're gonna know that without
trying is there. I'm game." I grinned, "You want me to swim across
and get it? It'll only take a few minutes."
I shook my head as I stood up, "We'll both go, it's getting
kind of hot here anyway. It's cooler back near our clothes." I
reached down and took Dylan's hand pulling him to his feet. He stood
before me, his lean naked brown body now shamelessly revealed,
little bits of pine needles sticking to him where he had been lying.
Gently I brushed him off, running my hands along the slender legs,
over the rounded buttocks, up his narrow back. "You sure you really
want to do this?" I asked.
Dylan nodded and stepped away, "Yeah I wanna do it, don't
you?" I nodded and followed the boy down into the crevice between
the rocks. We waded into the water together, the coolness
refreshing and restoring us. Slowly we swam to the other side of
the pool, then when the water was too shallow, we waded ashore and
walked over to where we'd left our clothes in two untidy piles.
Dylan reached down and picked up his jeans, sliding his hand
first into one pocket and then into the other before he pulled out
a small tube. It was one of the little lip-stick-type cylinders
with the pull-off-top and he handed it to me with a big smirk.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked huskily.
"Huh?" I teased, knowing that Dylan was every bit as excited
as I was.
"Will it work?" he asked impatiently.
"I don't know, it probably isn't very slippery. I think you're
probably going to need something like vaseline. There's not very
much inside these things and you'd want a lot back there for your
first time."
"Oh!" the boy said unable to conceal his disappointment. He
paused, then still pouting added, "But can't we try it anyway."
I grinned at the boy, "You're really sure you want to do this
Dylan?" I asked. He swallowed as though afraid, thought for a
second or two, then nodded eagerly. "Okay, young man let's do it!"
I laughed pulling Dylan to me. His naked body was cool from the
brief swim and, like me, his erection had subsided but as he hugged
me, grinding his cock against my leg and pressing his belly into
my cock, his excitement returned. He lifted up his face, his eyes
looking into mine, his expression reflecting both lust and desire.
Even as our mouths came tohether, his lips parted and his tongue
pushed forward, seeking my mouth and tongue with an almost obscene
hunger. We kissed long and hard, increasingly wet and passionate,
tongues working together, sucking and sharing our saliva. The boy's
slender brown arms locked around my waist, my own hands grasping
the silky-soft skin of his butt-cheeks, pressing my finger tips
into his crack, caressing the hot moist crevice from the underside
of his little shrivelled ball-sac up to the start of his backbone.
After a few moments we were both fully erect, Dylan sliding his
belly up and down, pumping himself against my cock, making the same
little whimpering sounds that he'd made earlier as my forefinger
pressed into his anus for the first time.
Both the boy and I were breathing rapidly, our cocks throbbing
with excitement as I carefully eased Dylan down onto the grass,
turning him over onto his belly. Instinctively his small hands came
back, replacing my hands on his cheeks as I removed the top from
the lip-gel. He looked back over his shoulder, fascinated as he
watched my finger scooping up the cream-colored paste and he
grinned cheekily, the sudden surge of adrenaline sending his heart
racing, his anticipation swelling though his young naked body and
easily overwhelming the fear and guilt that gnawed at him. He felt
strange inside his belly, not sick but as if there was a pain that
wouldn't go away until, until,... He watched as my hand moved
downward, my forefinger coated with the lip-gel. He felt the
coolness of the greasy paste as my finger touched the sensitive rim
of his anus, then probed inside, smearing the lubricant over his
opening. Then he knew from deep inside his belly what he needed for
that strange feeling and as my finger pushed back into him, up into
the boy's tight bowel Dylan moaned, pushing his buttocks up to meet
me and driving my well lubricated finger inwards. My finger curled
pressing back into his belly right before his bladder, into the now
familiar special place inside him. I rubbed him gently, absorbed
by his body's natural reaction, his legs stretching out, his toes
curling into the grass, his fists clenching and unclenching. I
pulled my finger free and added more of the lubricant, pushing a
big yellow blob down into his anus.
He gasped, his rigid cock straining as it flexed, his scrotum
tightened even further, protectively pulling his little balls up
close. He moaned again, the feelings that surged outward from my
gently stabbing finger even more intense that they had been
earlier. I pumped my finger hard for a few moments, then gently
rubbed that sensitive spot inside him, then pumped again, feeling
the boy's sphincter tighten and then loosen on my finger. More than
the first time, I was aware of the heat that began just inside his
body, the pressure of his squeezing anus slowly fading as he began
to relax. After a few more minutes I pulled my forefinger back and
then, with my first finger tightly beside it, squeezed both back
into the now loosened anus. His anal band was still tight, as tight
as it had been earlier, but this time the lubricant helped and my
fingers pushed in, past the first joint and up to the second. Dylan
was panting, shuddering with each thrust of my fingers into his
bowel. Every few moments the boy tried feebly to push his buttocks
back towards me, desperate for me to continue the massage of his
immature prostate, but unable to find the strength. Over and over
he began to cry, "Ohhh, oh that's soooo good."
I took Dylan right up to the edge of another orgasm before I
slowed down and let the boy recover his senses. That helped to
dilate him even further so I did it again, and then again after
that, each time draining the boy's strength until he was barely
able to move. Then, after a few more minutes I knew that his anal
band was about as loose as it was going to get. I'd used more than
half of the lip-gel so far but it seemed to do the job. The heat
of his body softened it, turning it greasy, and as it joined with
the mucous within him, it made his flesh sensitive to touch and
very slippery. I stopped, withdrew my fingers with a 'loud sucking
sound' and began to lubricate my cock. Dylan looked up weakly, even
turning his head was an effort now. Despite his heavy breathing,
he smiled between gasps as he saw me smearing the lip-gel over my
cock. "You,... you,... gonna put it inside me now?" he asked.
I nodded, wondering how best to do it, I really didn't want
to hurt him, I wanted his first time to be something he'd never
forget, and not because of the pain he'd undergone. Lying on top
of him would put all my weight onto him. I thought about placing
him on his side, foetal position, and lying behind him, or lifting
him into a crouching position and kneeling behind him. Finally I
settled on my second choice and I knelt over him, placing my hands
on the boy's narrow hips. I twisted him over, lifting his legs up
so that his knees were nearly at his shoulders, then I lay down
behind him. From where I lay it was impossible to see the boy's
anus but I positioned the head of my cock between his fingers,
pressing between the soft warmth of his butt cheeks. Dylan sighed
and murmured something, using my right hand I reached around his
hip and gently stroked his penis, massaging his little balls. He
sighed again, pushing back slightly so that my cock probed into his
small loosened opening. Lovingly my lips brushed his neck, my
tongue tickling the soft skin of his shoulder, biting the tender
flesh gently, making sure that any marks that I left were beneath
where the neck of his shirt would normally cover.
My cock seemed to get harder and larger than it had ever been,
the head was swollen up and the veins bulged and I was certain that
it would never fit inside the slender young boy lying before me.
The head of my cock was like a wedge between his butt cheeks, the
dimple of his anus felt like a little soft spot into which the very
tip of my cock had burrowed. That precious opening into Dylan's
young body seemed to glow with the heat from inside him, growing
and drawing me inside like a spell. I pressed forward, testing the
boy's resistance. He gasped, then grunted as he felt the head of
my cock ram into his sensitive most-private place. I pushed forward
again, and then again, trying to get past the boy's tightness.
Dylan squealed then he lifted one hand up to his mouth, biting on
his knuckle as he began to sob. Each time I increased the pressure,
wondering how I had ever managed to get two fingers inside him only
a few minutes earlier. After about a minute or so I stopped, feeling
the head of my cock implanted barely inside the boy. I wasn't in
very far but it was far enough. He was shaking, and I knew that he
was in pain. He needed to stop, to let his body adjust, to accept
the strange new presence.
"You okay, Dylan?" I asked gently, "You want me to stop?"
The boy choked back a sob, shaking his head wildly. "God it
hurts.... Don't stop! But try to go slow,...okay? It's in a little
bit isn't it?"
"Yeah," I acknowledged, reaching up an lifting the boy's hand
away from his mouth, "It's okay to cry Dylan. I know it hurts."
Gently I drew his hand downward, then over his hip and between our
bodies, placing his fingers against the shaft of my cock. "You can
feel how far it's in." I whispered in his ear. The boy's hand was
moist and hot and his fingers slowly moved along the shaft of my
cock. He felt the ridge around the head of my cock mushrooming out
from inside him, forming a ring that seemed to prevent any passage
into him. "Just relax Dylan. When I push, you push down too, like
you're trying to poop."
The boy nodded and after a while, when he'd stopped gasping,
I tried again. The boy strained, increasing the pressure on his
bowel as if he was constipated as my cock was forced forward until
the boy winced, then yelped as a sharp pain racked his young body.
I stopped pushing forward, holding Dylan's trembling body until the
pain faded. Again we tried. This time my cock pierced his body, the
flared head penetrating into him so that it disappeared inside. The
heat and pressure within the boy was overwhelming, his anal band
clamping down hard on my cock as he convulsed, then began to
struggle, his weakened body following its natural impulse and
trying to escape. I held him tightly to me, grasping his hips so
that he couldn't pull away. "It's okay Dylan," I whispered
soothingly in the boy's ear, "It's okay honey. It's inside now.
It's okay"
After less than a minute Dylan's struggles ceased and he lay
quietly, his breathing rapid, enduring sobs and shivering as the
pain faded. He reached between our bodies again, his fingers
feeling for my cock, then tracing along the rigid shaft to where
it disappeared inside him. This time he didn't feel the head of my
cock, just the thick hot shaft as it penetrated him, his anus
stretched wide open, the sensitive flesh almost tearing.
"You're,...you're inside me. It's,... it's in a long way," he
whispered in awe.
I leaned over him and kissed the boy's tear stained cheek,
tasting the sweet saltiness of his tears. "Yes it is. I'm sorry I
hurt you, Dylan."
For a long time the boy was quiet, then he whispered, "That's
okay, it,... kind of feels better now. Jesus you feel big but, it
feels like it's gonna burst back there."
I nodded and kissed the boy again, "I think the worst of it
is over now, in a little bit, when you're ready, I'm going to go
deeper. Just push down on it like before, okay?"
Dylan nodded, "Do it now. It feels okay," he instructed.
With the head of my cock inside the boy, the worst was over.
As I pushed forward again with a long careful thrust I felt the
boy's anal band squeezing on my cock, gradually pushing further
upward, the heat increasing until I had about three inches inside
him. Dylan groaned as he felt my cock driving hard into him then
expanding to fill his bowel, then he convulsed as his sphincter
clamped down on my cock, "Ohhhh! SHIT that hurts", he yelped. I
stopped again to let the boy recover. "No don't stop, just do IT!"
he gasped. Having my fingers inside him had been nothing like this.
The pain was indescribable, but so was the pleasure. My cock was
forced hard against his little prostate, he trembled uncontrollably
as shivers went up his spine, his legs writhing against mine as he
was impaled. The pressure so intense inside the boy that his
bladder weakened, his yellowish urine dribbling involuntarily from
his now limp penis, down the furrow between his thigh and hip and
onto the grass.
I pushed again, slowly and very carefully, with a long
deliberate thrust, feeling the boy's body bearing down to meet me.
Another two inches slowly, inexorably pushed into him. I stopped
when it seemed as if no more could ever fit inside that slender
young body. His rectum was squeezing ever few seconds, his
tightening spasms and cramps progressively becoming weaker and less
frequent. I could every motion of the boy's body transmitted
directly into mine. It was as if we were joined together as one,
our bodies united, every shudder, every cramp, even the frantic
pounding of his heart, a part of my body. As soon as the boy's
sobbing ceased I began to thrust into him, pulling back gently then
squeezing forward as slow as I could, moving my cock about an inch
or two inside that incredibly tight, hot passage. I was never more
aware of the feelings in my cock. His sphincter tried valiantly to
tighten up but finally it surrendered, as Dylan surrendered his
virginity. I began to fuck the boy, listening to my cock sucking
loudly in the mucous and lubricant that had somehow seeped out of
him. The boy's rectum was coated with slippery juice, though taut,
the walls of his bowel were soft and smooth not unlike the inside
of his mouth when he'd sucked my cock earlier in the day. I reached
around his hip, taking his very limp penis between my thumb and
first two fingers. I began to masturbate him, squeezing gently on
his little balls and rubbing him slowly at first, then faster as
his cock became hard again.
It didn't take very long before Dylan reached the point of no
return. It happened so quickly that I couldn't slow down. One
second he was trembling and gasping for air taking quick shallow
breaths each time my cock pulled back, the next, his back arched,
his legs jerking outwards, his head thrown back as he squealed from
the sudden orgasm. I wondered if I should stop, he seemed to be in
pain but the boy was two steps in front of me, "Don't stop! Keep
on doing it," he hissed. I began to use my cock a little harder, a
little faster, going just a little bit deeper. Dylan lay very quiet
now, his energy drained, his young body exhausted. He whimpered,
moaning quietly with each gentle thrust. Like before, the orgasm
seemed to loosen the boy even further so that my cock moved easier
inside him, slicked by the juices that had formed there. I knew it
wouldn't be long before my own climax. I concentrated all my
thoughts on trying to postpone the inevitable, but I was overcome
by the wonderful body that engulfed me, by the delight that
surrounded my dick.
I realized that Dylan had reached the peak again, his legs
flailing wildly as he strained down on my cock, his muscles finding
hidden strength as he began to gasp, then he convulsed in a sudden
intense spasm. I had only seconds to go, I began to pump into the
boy faster, finally pushing into him the whole way so that my balls
slapped hard against his cheeks, reaching the boy's final
resistance. I gave Dylan one final hard thrust, then groaned as I
felt my balls tighten, come rising up my cock shaft, erupting from
the head of my cock, spurting hot and thick into the boy as he
shuddered with the passing of yet another orgasm. My cock jerked
again and again, trying to empty itself, trying to fill the cavity
inside his body with sperm. As my orgasm died away I collapsed over
the inert boy.
I don't remember how long I lay there behind Dylan but it
seemed like long while. I hugged Dylan to me, caressing his golden-
blond hair, stroking his lean, body. Both of us were covered with
a sheen of perspiration, beads of sweat had trickled between us so
that our bodies had stuck together. Unable to break the bonds
between us I stayed joined to Dylan, my now-softened cock embedded
deep inside his belly. Finally I sensed that the boy had fallen
asleep and I carefully extricated my cock. His anus was fully
dilated and loose on my limp cock, as I pulled back gently it
slipped out easily, sucking like a shoe pulled out of mud as it
came free. Dylan stirred slightly, then settled back down, still
asleep, unaware of the void within him.
I moved back slightly and glanced down, feeling the bile rise
in my throat as I saw the dark red blood that streaked my cock. At
first I couldn't understand it and I stared dumbly at the redness,
wondering stupidly whether it had come from me or Dylan. The boy
had orgasmed twice, once the pain of my entry had passed and his
body had become accustomed to my penis he had appeared to enjoy. I
hadn't wanted to hurt him but I knew that at the very end, unable
to hold back, I had gone too deeply and far too hard for his
delicate body. But there wasn't much blood, just a few streaks that
signified the loss of his innocence. He'd been so tight inside,
that I realized then that we'd been lucky that I hadn't injured
him. I slid down lower careful not to disturb the boy and gently
parted his cheeks. His anus had completely opened up, the hole a
little less that one inch in diameter, the crimson of his bowel
clearly visible. My semen and the boy's blood and mucous had
mingled to a reddish foam that oozed out of him, a little trickle
running over his pale cheek, the rest making a thick and gooey mess
over the underside of his ball-sac.
The bleeding had apparently stopped, there was no sign of
where it had come from and I guessed that it had come from deep
inside the boy. I twisted over, reaching for my jeans to get a
handkerchief. I touched something and pulled it toward me. It was
Dylan's jeans, mine were still some feet away. I checked the
pockets, but like most twelve-year-old boys he didn't carry a
handkerchief. Guiltily, I pulled the white jockeys from within the
boy's pants, they were clean and fresh looking, perhaps even brand-
new, and awfully small, size 22-24. I hadn't intended to hurt the
boy, I wanted desperately to remove all traces of what I had done.
Carefully I wiped the mess off his little scrotum, swallowing back
the bile that kept rising in my throat, threatening to vomit each
time I saw the results of my love for the boy. I nearly gagged when
I saw the red stains soiling the perfect white cotton of the boy's
underpants. Then I dabbed the cloth into his crack, gently so as
not to wake him, looking to see whether more blood came out. By the
time I had finished I was trembling. Carefully I moved up next to
Dylan again, craddling his injured body with mine, fitting my knees
up behind his legs, bending to meet the curve of his back, brushing
his neck with my lips.
I don't know how long I lay there before I fell asleep too.
It seemed as if hours passed, long lonely hours as I felt my guilt
and shame growing ever stronger. Finally I too fell asleep in the
hot afternoon sun and dreamed fitfully, waking again and again,
then dozing off again, before my mind stopped replaying the
terrible memory of the blood oozing out of Dylan's beautiful young
body. It was Dylan that finally woke me up. I opened my eyes,
suddenly startled, then looked up into Dylan's eyes as he leaned
over me. He smiled shyly, "Hi sleepy head. I didn't think you'd
ever wake up."
"Hi yourself," I murmurred. Then the memory came rushing back.
"Dylan,...Dylan, I'm sorry, I,... I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm
sorry that I hurt you." The words tumbled out as the boy grinned.
"You didn't hurt so much. At first it did when you were putting
it in me, but then it stopped. It was wild, much better than when
you did it with just your fingers."
"Does it hurt now?" I asked nervously.
Dylan shrugged, "Kind off. Now exactly hurt, it feels sort of
sore inside, kind of in my belly, only deeper. Like it's bruised
inside. My hole feels a lot bigger too. I guess it is huh?" he
grinned.
"It really doesn't hurt?" I asked again, still uncertain,
still seeing the blood oozing out.
"Nah, I'm okay, really I am," the boy replied.
"But you bled inside, there was blood coming out of you", I
persisted.
"Yeah I know. I saw it on my underpants. There isn't very much.
I got kind of worried too, but it's stopped now. I think next time
you gotta do it slower or something."
I breathed out in relief. "We'd better get back, it must be
after four," I said, glancing at the sun and then at my watch."It
is, it's twenty past. Do you think you can ride okay?"
Dylan nodded, "Yeah but I think you'll have to help me up."
His head tilted down and his lips pursed. We kissed, mouth to
mouth, sharing our tongues. When we parted Dylan gave me a cheeky
grin. "That was nice, almost as nice as what you did back there."
He paused a moment or two then started to giggle, breaking into a
laugh, "You were awesome," he added.
"So were you, Dylan. You were 'awesome' too." I laughed with
the boy then we kissed again. "I guess we better get back before
Kelly starts getting worried and comes out to look for us."
Dylan nodded and leaned over me to pick up his jeans. I watched
as the boy slid his feet in, then pulled them halfway up his slender
legs before he came to his knees, playfully pushed his small limp
cock down into his pants, closed the zipper and fastened his belt.
I picked up his underpants, "What about these?" I teased. Dylan
smirked, "You keep 'em. I can hardly wear them home. If mom finds
them in the wash she'll die."
I picked up my trophy, the unmistakable evidence of our union.
"I'll keep them forever to remind me of today, Dylan," I said as I
rolled over to reach my own clothes.
Dylan smiled, "The first time we did it huh?"
I came to my feet and started to get dressed. "More than that.
It's the first time I realized how much I loved you."
Dylan looked down at his bare feet in sudden embarrasment.
"Yeah,... I know."
We finished dressing, then with Dylan's underpants rolled up
and secure in my pocket, we walked up the embankment to where we
had left the horses. Dylan walked uneasily, and I had to help him
scramble up the last few feet, he was obviously on very tired boy.
The horses were grazing peacefully, still where we left them, oblivious
to what the boy and I had done down at the creek. I saddled both of the
horses then I locked my hands together, bent down so that he could put
his foot and gave Dylan a boost onto his horse, lifting his eighty
plus pounds easily. He winced as he lifted his leg up over the saddle,
sitting down awkwardly, obviously still sore inside. I mounted my
horse and we guided our horses in a slow walked back up the barn.
We didn't say much, both of us engrossed in our own thoughts,
remembering what had transpired in the woods that afternoon, trying
to sort out our confused feelings about what we had shared
together.
Chapter 6.
Once the horses were unsaddled I led Dylan back into the
house. It was just past five o'clock and we'd eaten nothing since
breakfast. Dylan was starving and I quickly made sandwiches. He
stood beside me as I sliced cheese and tomatoes and spread
mayonnaise on the bread, looking up at me, his eyes questioning,
curious, radiating an intensity that I hadn't noticed before.
"You like cheese and tomato sandwiches?" I asked.
Dylan shrugged, "Okay I guess, I'm so hungry I could eat
anything right now." He looked away then winced as his belly
cramped and a little fart gurgled wetly out from behind him.
I grinned back at the boy, "That sounded pretty wet back
there."
He looked back at me and smirked cheekily, "Yeah, If feels
yucky. I think some of your stuff came outta me, it's wet on my
jeans. I've been doing that, cuttin' 'em all the way back from the
creek."
I laughed, "There's probably a whole lot of gas inside you.
Maybe you're reacting to the lip-gel? That really isn't the stuff
to use next time I think," I teased.
"It worked but, didn't it? So what should you use?"
"I know there's stuff called KY that's s'posed to be better
for you," I answered. "Other than that I really don't know.
Vaseline, I guess, but it's probably going to do the same thing as
the lip-gel."
"KY? Like in Kentucky?" he giggled, "Is that where it's made?"
I laughed as I cut the sandwiches into halves, then poured two
Cokes. "I think Vaseline would be better,... the next time we do
it. I'll clean up after lunch, I'm ready to die of hunger."
There had been an unmistakable tension in his voice since we
had left the barn. I wondered whether the boy was suffering from
the after effects, the guilt and shame that I knew he'd feel
eventually as he came to understand that he really was gay. It would
be a difficult time for him, already tormented by his friend's
claim that he was a 'faggot'. I wanted to help Dylan, to make his
realization as gentle as possible, to support him so that unlike
me, he accepted rather than rejected his sexuality. "So what's the
problem?" I asked as I passed him his sandwich.
The boy shrugged and started to turn away, then his head swung
away and he looked back, "What you said before, at the creek?"
"Huh, what in particular?"
"You know,... About it being the first time that you realized
how much you loved me?" he continued. I looked up at the boy and
nodded. "Did you mean it,... about loving me? Like when people get
married. I mean,... well I'm just a kid and all,... and well I guess
two guys can be in love,... but,... well do you know what I mean?"
I nodded, "Yeah I think so. What do you think?"
Dylan hesitated, as he went around the island workbench and
climbed up onto the kitchen stool. "I,... well I think you love me.
It's more than what we did down there at the creek, and,... well
it's different to being friends and all that."
"Like with your friend, Gary," I suggested, then added, "So
tell me how you feel."
Dylan lifted his sandwich up, then stopped halfway. "I like
you a whole lot. I kind of feel strange inside. I keep getting this
feeling, I want to keep looking at you, it's like I'm afraid you'll
go away and I won't see you any more. I think,... I love you,...
but I don't know how it's supposed to feel. Like with my mom, I
know I love her, but it's not like this."
I smiled at the boy and lovingly brushed his bare brown
forearm. "Well, we'll figure it out. Go ahead and eat your
sandwich, you must be starving." The boy grinned and took a large
bite. I watched him chew, wondering about our newly formed
relationship. He was an easy boy to love, sitting there swinging
his slender legs as he bit into his sandwich ravenously, his
golden-blond hair tousled and falling over his forehead, his light
blue eyes sparkling. I sat down next to him and ate my long-delayed
lunch, very aware of his body just inches away, remembering the
soft smooth warmth of his slender body, his gentle hands touching
my penis, his playful giggles, the sweetness of his breath as we
kissed, the intense heat and pressure that I had discovered inside
him. I wanted to lift him up in my arms and carry him up to the
bedroom and savor those wonders again and again. I felt my cock
began to harden again, my urge intensifying, overcoming any
resistance. But there was still the insistent memory that I carried
of the boy's buttocks and his little wrinkled ball-sac stained with
blood, I knew now that I loved him too much to hurt him again like
that.
"I better call Kelly and tell we'll pick him up in bit," I
said, leaving my sandwich half-finished on the plate. I stood up
and went over to the telephone. "I think I'll tell him 'bout a half
hour or so. I guess you better have a shower before I take you
home."
Dylan grinned and nodded and went back to his sandwich,
finishing the first and starting on the second. I dialed the number
and spoke to Joey's father, telling him that I'd drop by to pick
up Kelly, then as an after thought, increased my estimate of the
time to 'maybe forty five minutes or more'. I put the phone down
and turned back to Dylan, only to see him taking large bites out
of my sandwich. "Heh, come on Dylan, that's mine', I laughed.
"So, I was hungry," he said, laughing with me as he put the
remains of the sandwich back on the plate.
I came over to where the boy was sitting and glanced down at
the remains of my sandwich, "You didn't leave me very much," I
complained playfully. "And there are teeth marks in it too, you
little bugger," I added grabbing Dylan around the shoulders. I
jerked his arms up over his head and began to tickle him under the
ribs.
He giggled uncontrollably, writhing and trying to escape as
he cried, "I was hungry, but!" I had my arms full with the
wriggling, laughing boy and I had to wonder how he found the energy
and strength that he exerted as he twisted and turned. Dylan's mood
had changed, he was obviously a very different boy to just a few
minutes ago. He could barely control himself as he continued to
tease me, "Besides a few teeth marks is nothing compared to what
you did to me today. You bit me all over my shoulders,... and,...
and I've got a butt full of your come,... so what's a few teeth
marks, anyway." The boy convulsed with laughter
"Not really, I think you got most of it in your mouth. So you
shouldn't be that hungry," I laughed as I reached down with one
hand, restraining him with the other and playfully grabbed at his
groin. The boy laughed even louder as he tried to protect his
genitals and return the attack. "So maybe I should have this for
lunch?" I teased as my fingers clutched on the soft bulge of his
penis and testicles.
Dylan stopped struggling and looked up at me, his face
flushed, breathless, "Heh, that's not fair." He smirked at me as
he added, "But you can if you want."
"I think we'd better take you up and give you a cold shower",
I said, pulling Dylan up from the stool by putting my arms around
his chest and hugging him tightly to me.
"But I'm still hungry," The boy whined playfully, "I haven't
finished my,... your lunch yet. You can if you want,..." he
repeated meaningfully and very seriously, locking his legs around
my hips so that I had to carry him.
"I can if I want,... what?" I teased, having an excellent idea
of where Dylan was headed, but surprised by the extent of the boy's
desire. Then a picture flashed through my head as I remembered him
playing basketball, the seemingly boundless energy as he leaped,
jumped, and ran in the heat of the afternoon. I was beginning to
realize that this was one very sexy twelve-year-old boy.
"Whatever you want!" he smirked, "Anything! You're giving me
a hard-on," he added as he tightened his legs around my hips.
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Dylan. Anything I want,
huh?" I asked jokingly, trying not to stumble as we lurched through
the doorway and into the hall towards the stairs. He wasn't the
only one getting an erection.
"Yeah, anything!" he replied, his voice suddenly turning husky
the way it does when he became excited and things began to get out
of control. "Anything you want,... even in my backside," he added
with emphasis.
I shook my head "You're insatiable," I laughed, "I think I've
created a sex-monster." I carried the boy to the bottom of the
stairs before I put him down on his feet. I was tempted to carry
him all the way up and into the bedroom but still I dared not. The
chance of an accident, of hurting him, was far too much to bear.
Dylan looked at me with a stare, focusing his attention in the
growing bulge in my jeans, "Yeah, I see I'm not the only one with
one of those,... only your's is a lot bigger than mine," he observed
teasingly.
I pretended to be serious, "Okay young man, upstairs at once,
and let's get you cleaned up before you go home to your mom, or
she'll wonder what on earth you've been doing all day."
Dylan smirked again cheekily, "Oh!... We'll just have to tell
her that you spent the day,... fucking me." The F-word from the
young boy's lips sounded particularly obscene, but not nearly as
much as his gesture. His hand dropped down, his fingers enclosing
the tight little bulge in the front of his jeans, then squeezing
firmly, deliberately, as he looked back up at me. "'course we could
just tell my mom that I got like this from riding all day."
Playfully I spun him around to face the stairs, then gave him
a firm, resounding slap on the buttocks. Clothed in the tight denim
of his old jeans, it felt rather like firm rubber. "Upstairs now
and into the shower, Dylan," I ordered, pretending to be angry.
"Yyyoouch!", he squealed, "I gonna tell my mom,... I am,... I
gonna tell her that you fucked me!" he taunted as he jerked away
and began to leap up the stairs two at a time with me hard on his
heels. By the time we reached the top of the stairs we were both
laughing hysterically. Dylan ran down the corridor and into the
second bedroom, seeking to 'escape my wrath'. I followed him into
the room as he glanced back over his shoulder, still laughing. The
boy darted to one side as I came past, then in a single bound,
jumped onto the bed with a flying leap from about six feet away.
he lay there giggling uncontrollably, massaging his cock and balls
as he repeated, "I'm gonna tell my mom! I'm gonna tell my mom you
fucked me."
The room was dark and cool because the curtains were drawn. I
flopped down beside the boy spread-eagled on the bed, still
laughing, trying to catch my breath. "Where the hell did you learn
words like that? A nice boy like you!" I taunted.
Dylan turned towards me, resting his head on my shoulder and
placing his hand on my thigh, his small fingers extending downwards
to my groin, then slowly inching towards my throbbing cock. The boy
had just one thing on his mind. "All the guys at school talk like
that!" he said, pretending to pout. "Fuck this and fuck that,
that's all they talk about."
"Well," I said in mock seriousness, "I don't love them. And I
don't like you talking that way. You make is sound,... well so
dirty."
Dylan thought for a moment, then giggled, "It's not but is it?
Okay, so what do you call it when you stick your big hairy cock up
my butt, huh?"
I laughed, "Now that does sound dirty. It isn't that big and
it certainly isn't all that hairy."
Dylan's fingers brushed against my genitals, his thumb
stroking the rounded lump that was the head of my cock. "Well he
is compared to mine!" he replied. He was quiet again for a moment,
"Well do you want to do IT or not?" he asked as he kicked off his
Nike Airs and let them fall to the floor with a thud.
There was no mistaking the plaintive sound in the boy's voice,
as husky as ever, trembling with barely controlled excitement. I
lovingly covered his small hand with mine, pressing it harder onto
my cock, "You're gonna turn in a 'faggot' if you keep this up," I
answered, trying to control my own excitement.
"Who me?" the boy said in a high-pitched falsetto voice. "You
said I was too young to be queer," he added.
Suddenly he pulled his hand from under mine, taking it away
from my groin, brushing his dishevelled golden-blond hair back. He
looked down towards his feet, trying to extricate some meaning from
the confusion in his mind. He lay back, now taciturn, considering
his options silently for almost a full minute. The boy sucked on
his bottom lip pensively, then twisted over onto his back, his
decision now made. His hands came to his waist, fumbled momentarily
with his belt buckle, then the clasp on his jeans, then, looking
up at me, his eyes challenging me with a silent stare, his right
hand pulled the zipper down. It was the only sound in the room and
it seemed very loud. Dylan lifted his buttocks up, tugging his
jeans downward, his eyes still locked on mine as his hands came to
his knees, then all the way to his feet, before he lay back. The
boy was naked from the waist down, his body suddenly looking pale
in the darkness of the room.
The boy lay back, except for his ragged breathing he was
inert, almost drained by the effort but very aware of my eyes as
they travelled downward to his cock. It was very hard and it pointed
up towards his navel, parallel to, but not touching his flat belly.
He flexed his sphincter muscle, making his cock jerk teasingly,
"Okay, so I'm a 'faggot', I'm queer okay?" he whispered as if afraid
that someone else would hear.
"I'm glad,..." I said gently, placing my hand on his bare
thigh midway between his knee and hip, "I'm glad you are. It's
nothing to be ashamed of. No one else has to know, not until you're
much older and you want them to know. I love you, Dylan"
The boy nodded, wanting more than ever to return the words.
Slowly he swallowed, "I love you too, Alex", he whispered at last.
In those few seconds I was never more aware of the boy's
fragility. Despite his energy, the firm muscles in his young body,
the passion he'd shared with me earlier in the day, his obscene
teasing; he was still a boy, a twelve-year-old boy, a very
sensitive boy on the verge of discovery. I swallowed, then to break
through the barrier that had formed in my mind, I reached down and
began to unfasten the small white buttons of his shirt. Dylan
looked up at me, his tongue wetting his lips as he breathed heavily,
swallowing nervously, his heart pounding, knowing deep inside him
that everything had just changed, that it wasn't a game any longer.
I took his hands in mine and gently pulled him up into a sitting
position. I eased the shirt back, exposing his chest, tiny thin
ripples of flesh forming at his waist, then pulling the sleeves
outward and past his hands. The boy was naked, totally naked except
for his socks, his precious body exposed, shamelessly and visibly
aroused. I leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the sweetness of his
mouth, his inquisitive tongue probing for mine, then engaging in a
wet, passionate wrestle as I hugged his soft warmth to me.
After nearly a minute I gently pushed him away. "I love you
Alex," he whispered again.
I nodded, taking the boy by the hand I pulled him up from the
bed and led him into the bathroom. "First we have to clean up. I
want you to shower, then if we have time, we'll go back in there
and finish what we started," I said, reaching through the opening
into the shower to turn on the water.
Dylan looked at me angrily, "But!..." he retorted.
"No buts Dylan, least not until you've cleaned up," I teased.
Then standing before the naked boy I started to remove my own
clothes.
Dylan's eyes lit up immediately, "What are you doing?... Why
are you undressing too?" he asked curiously.
I grinned back up him as I pulled my jeans and briefs past my
feet, then as I stood up I said, "'cause I'm taking a shower with
you."
"Huh?!". For an instant Dylan looked confused, then his smile
widened. I started to come closer, my arms spread wide to catch the
boy. "Ohhhh!" he yelped as I grabbed him around the waist. He
struggled playfully as I lifted him over to the shower and into the
water. He giggled boisterously, wriggling and twisting as the water
cascaded down over us.
Seeing the boy's excitability was all the provocation that I
needed. I pushed him back against the shower wall where the flow
of water was the strongest. It wasn't a hard push but it was firm
enough so that he knew who was in control, then pining him with one
hand I stood back to relish the boy's beautiful body. I was
enraptured. The water streamed down his slender brown body, forming
a riverlet over his navel, then reaching his rigid little penis,
broke into two and ran down his legs. Dylan's hair was washed back,
his tiny nipples forming two hard dark points on his flat chest,
his lips pursed, quivering with desire. His arms reached out to me
and I stepped forward, hugging the boy tightly to me as his arms
locked around my waist. He was wet and slippery and delicious. His
mouth lifted up to meet mine as we came together. As we stood there
locked together under the cleansing water, I ravished the boy,
kissing, licking, sucking anywhere and everywhere. Dylan
responded, kissing me urgently and grinding his cock against my leg
as he began to rock his hips from side to side rhythmically. My
hand dropped down and slid between our bodies, grasping Dylan's
small hard cock tightly in my fist and rubbing it feverishly as he
thrusted back and forth wildly, pumping his soft belly against my
cock.
A minute went by, maybe more, our bodies abandoned to carnal
lust, until finally I had to force Dylan away. He looked up angrily,
his desire unabated, "Come on, don't stop,... not now okay!" he
pleaded breathlessly.
"You keep that up Dylan and I'm gonna come any second," I said,
trying to quieting the boy as he lunged back at me.
"So?... So I want you to come! I want you to come on me," he
retorted, "if you're not gonna come in me".
"No you don't," I grinned at the boy's obscenity. "Not now.
I'm going to soap you up and when you're all nice and clean I'm
taking you back in the bedroom and we're going to do it again. Only
this time, we're using Vaseline."
Dylan's eyes flashed with joy, "Yeah? I s'pose so," he said
feigning disinterest, but giving himself away with the excited
tremble in his voice.
I guided Dylan into the corner furthest away from the water
and I picked up the soap. I knelt down paying homage to my young
lover as I feasted my eyes on his rigid penis only inches away from
my face. Then I began to soap his body, working up a good white
lather on his legs. I made my way upwards slowly, tantalized by the
smooth slipperiness of the boy's soap-slicked skin. When I came to
his buttocks I parted his cheeks and examined his anus. It was still
slightly dilated, the rim now redder than it had been than when I
first saw it earlier in the morning. It looked sore and slightly
puffed out as though it was swollen and I was certain that he'd
been bruised by the forced entry of my cock. I tested the boy's
orifice with a careful push of my finger before soaping into his
crack liberally. It didn't seem to bother him. Once his back was
well soaped I twisted him around to face me and washed to his belly,
chest and shoulders, saving the best for last. I soaped his penis
and scrotum thoroughly covering them with a thick white foam,
soaping until the boy's penis was so hard it felt as though it could
be snapped off but it could barely be seen. I don't know who had
the greatest fun, me or Dylan.
The boy giggled and twisted and sighed with obvious delight,
grinning cheekily and thrusting his hips rapidly so as to move his
slippery, soap-covered cock in my hand, oblivious to the water as
it showered down over him, he was intent only on extracting the
maximum delight from his rigid little cock as it pumped back and
forth. I could have spent the rest of the day in the shower with
Dylan. The boy's effort was, of course to no avail. It would be a
long time before he was able to get the kind of satisfaction he
wanted and we both knew it.
I washed myself quickly as Dylan rinsed away the soap lather,
letting the water splash over him, carrying the foam down to the
tiled floor. We stepped out of the shower together and towelled off
quickly. Dylan's penis had subsided slightly but his excitement
certainly hadn't. He was bubbling with boyish enthusiasm as he
roughed up his hair with his towel. "Come here, Dylan" I said as I
opened the vanity cabinet and removed the small jar of vaseline,
"It probably isn't as good for you as KY or something like that,
but it'll do for now. That is if you really want to? I'm afraid
it'll hurt quite a bit, I bet you're sore inside."
The boy nodded, his eagerness clearly visible on his face as
he came forward, the pain he'd experienced on the first attempt now
just a memory. He grinned at me cheekily, "Well at least we can
try, okay? If it hurts too much I'll tell you and you can stop."
"Okay kudo, but we're going to have to be quick about it.
Kelly's expecting us in a bit over half an hour." Dylan followed
me out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I turned to face
him as I reached the bed. The boy stepped into my outstretched arms,
his body still moist and hot from the shower, his hair damp and
bedraggled, brushed back from his forehead and gathering in dark
thick strands. He radiated a freshness as his mouth lifted up to
mine, and I smelled the perfumed scent of soap as my nose brushed
against his head. As we kissed I gently eased Dylan down onto the
bed, following him and pressing him back into the pillows. His hair
was wet and tangled and as he lay there watching me open the jar
of Vaseline I was struck by his sensuous smile. I knew that the boy
wanted this every bit as much as I did. "Roll over onto your tummy
and lift your butt up in the air," I instructed. Dylan complied
willingly. "Now, spread those cheeks wide open and let's get some
of this inside you."
Dylan looked over his shoulder watching as I scooped up some
of the Vaseline on my finger, a broad cheeky grin on his face, "You
better use lots okay. I am a little bit sore still," he teased.
I slapped his bare cheeks playfully with my other hand, "I bet
you are. If this hurts I want you to tell me, promise?"
"Yeah,... but I don't want you to stop. I'll be okay," Dylan
answered meekly.
"You let me be the judge of that. I don't plan to hurt you
like that again, ever again. We're going to have to be very careful
from now on," I said as I placed a big yellowish gob on the boy's
anus."
"Oh,... Ohhhh,... that's nice. It feels so cool," the boy
sighed as he felt the coolness melting into the heat of his body.
"Mmmm that's good. Mmmmm. Oh! Hey that's your finger. Yeah, that's
good. That feels soooo good," he moaned, wriggling his buttocks as
he tried to draw my finger further inside. "Yeah,... do it deeper."
"Does it hurt?" I asked.
"It's sort of sore, kind of, but nice. It's not as tight back
there as it was before is it?" Dylan asked.
"I,... I don't think so. Does it feel okay?" I asked
nervously.
"Stop worrying, okay. I promise I'll tell you if it hurts,"
the boy whimpered, "Do it deeper. Like before, when you push into
my belly kinda," he instructed. I complied, twisting my finger
around, curling it slightly and probing for the boy's tiny
prostate. I was immediately rewarded with a long moan, "Ohhh
Yeahhh. That's,... that's it, right there, ohhhh yeahhh." He paused
a moment, moving his buttocks uncomfortably, then pressed back
towards me, "Yeah, that's it," the boy hissed. "Now do it faster!"
he commanded.
Already I could feel the tension inside Dylan's body fading,
his slender hips rotating as he began the ascent to orgasm. His
sphincter valiantly contracted a few times but put up no real
resistance. After a few minutes I added a second finger, squeezing
it into the now-dilated opening and down into the narrow passage.
Almost as soon as his body was accustomed to the greater demands I
placed upon it, Dylan started to move his hips back and forth, using
the muscles in his thigh, arms, and belly to achieve a wave-like
motion in his lower body that forced my two fingers deeper into
him, setting his own pace, grunting with each backward motion, then
gasping as he pulled away again.
I let the boy do this for as long as I dared, until I noticed
that his breathing was erratic, taking great gulps of air, the
thrusting motion of his narrow hips was no longer rhythmic and
carefully orchestrated, but had become irregular, faster, and much
more strained, clear signs that his orgasm was beginning to close
in quickly. "Okay Dylan, that's enough, okay," I said, placing my
other hand on his buttocks to restrain him. Those few minutes as
the boy had brought himself ever closer to orgasm had been
overwhelming. I had watched and listened, absorbing the boy,
captivated by his animal-like sounds of pleasure, overcome by the
need within the boy which drove him relentlessly in the search for
relief. In those few, all-too-brief minutes Dylan had been
abandoned to his natural impulses, seeking the release that his
body hungered for. Until then I had not understood, had not grasped
the fundamental thesis that the boy, barely twelve years old, could
become as sexually aroused as he would later, when he was
physically mature and legally responsible.
The boy was gasping for breath as he slowed, trying to prolong
his ecstasy, then gradually stopped, "Put him in! Okay!" the boy
pleaded huskily.
As I had watched Dylan, crouching on the bed, head down in the
pillows, his buttocks raised upward to meet my hand, I had wondered
how best to take him. I wanted to see the boy's enjoyment, to watch
his rapture, and there was only one way. As I pulled my fingers out
of the boy's body it sucked noisily. Dylan whimpered slightly,
instantly aware of the void inside, the pressure suddenly,
irretrievably gone. In one movement I pushed the boy down onto the
bed, twisting him away and rolling him onto his back, then lifting
his legs up over my hips, my thighs coming to his buttocks. Dylan
was nearly at right angles to me, but with one arm around his
shoulders and the other under his legs I had control. With one hand
I guided my cock forwards, easily finding the boy's deep crack,
then probing for his opening. The angle was all wrong, his anus
lower down than I wanted, and I lifted his legs up higher, bringing
his lower-back up off the bed. I probed again, felt the wet, mushy
heat, the softness of his anus fitting snugly over the engorged
head of my cock.
I watched the boy as I pressed forward. His eyes opened wide,
taking a sudden breath as he felt it, squeezing into his tight anal
band, the momentary resistance, then penetrating. "Oh Yeah!" the
boy moaned, "Ohhhhhh!"
"You okay?" I asked urgently, "Does it hurt?" Dylan shook his
head rapidly, clenching his teeth as he pushed downward, straining
to get more of my cock burrowed into him. "Take it slowly, Dylan,"
I said, "Tell me if it hurts." The boy nodded again, rapidly, then
strained down again, forcing my cock further into him, deeper into
the tight constricted bowel. It was, as Dylan would say, 'awesome'.
I kept the pressure on, my thighs pushing forward relentlessly,
letting the boy take my cock into him as he wanted. Inch by inch I
felt my cock sliding deeper and deeper, the heat and wetness of his
body engulfing my throbbing cock, the boy's occasional tightening
spasms become weaker and less frequent. Finally he stopped, our
bodies joined together as one. He winced as he shifted his hips
slightly, moving my cock inside him, then lay still, his strength
drained momentarily.
Dylan was breathing quickly, with short fast gasps, a look of
triumph on his face, his eyes half-closed, tiny beads of
perspiration on his forehead. I smiled at the boy proudly, lovingly
caressing the soft golden-blond curls on his neck. "You okay?" I
asked gently. Watching the boy's effort as he struggled onto my
cock had been unforgettable. I had watched pain slowly change to
pleasure, seeing the satisfaction of his desires as he impaled
himself. It was, I decided, the only position we would use from now
on. Well, at least for a while.
The boy nodded slowly, uncertainly. He tried to control his
breathing, the same way he'd been trained when he was swimming,
taking long slow breaths, counting as he held it in. "He's,... he's
in,.... all the way,.... I think. He feels sooooo big inside."
"Huh huh," I acknowledged, lifting the boy's small hand
nearest to me and drawing it down between his legs, beside his
little limp penis, over the tiny rounded knot of his balls. At the
back of his balls, the boy's fingers brushed against my wiry pubic
hair, then a little further touched what still remained of my cock.
There was barely an inch left. "Not quite all the way, Dylan. But
far enough. You feel okay."
"Yeah,... yeah I think so.... It sort of hurts in there.....
Start doing it slowly.... I'll tell you if it gets worse.... You
do the work now, okay?" he said, his voice trembling as he
shuddered.
"I love you, Dylan", I whispered.
Dylan smiled weakly, "I love you too," he said huskily, then
added, "A lot!"
I began slowly, moving my hips forward barely an inch before
carefully pulling back, letting Dylan's legs go, so that he could
position himself. He responded by moving his knees even further
apart so that his legs were wide apart, his small cock exposed on
the little mound of his hairless pubis, his scrotum tightened up
so far much that his balls were flattened into the cavities through
which they had once descended. I stroked his penis, the delicate
skin impossibly soft, the tiny helmet-head spongy, the short shaft
loosened and impotent.
As the boy became used to my gentle motion I pulled him closer
to me, so that while he still lay on his back with his slender brown
legs up over my hips, his side was tucked against chest, his head
cradled into my shoulder. I had one hand on Dylan's shoulder,
restraining him slightly so that as my cock surged into him, he
wasn't pushed away. With my other hand I caressed his legs, feeling
the smooth brown skin with the texture of satin. I watched the fire
in the boy's eyes as we shared our love, the 'innocent' pale-blue
eyes looking into mine shamelessly, the whimper of delight as my
thighs moved steadily, building up the rhythm, then slowing as he
shuddered and twisted uncomfortably, stirring up the juices deep
inside him, bringing him slowly, irrevocably to the edge of his
sanity. As Dylan's penis hardened under my fingers I watched his
body begin to writhe, his own narrow pale hips moving in response
to mine, working the muscles that lined his clenching hot rectum
as he sought to satisfy his own desires as well as mine. Every few
seconds the boy would gasp for air, his arms grasping, hugging me
tightly, his legs crooked behind me, his small feet digging into
the bed cover, locking his buttocks hard against my thighs as I
began to lunge again and again. I endeavoured not to go too deep
into him but it was very difficult. On some thrusts the boy would
give out a little yelp as though he'd been hurt, but when I looked
at him for some indication he just shook his head wildly,
insisting, demanding that I continue.
Then the boy convulsed wildly, his sphincter grabbing my cock
and with all of the strength remaining in the boy's body Dylan
lifted his hips up and slammed down against my cock as hard as he
could. For an instant I was frightened by the intensity, the
violence of the boy's movement, then pale yellow urine dribbled
from the tiny slit in his penis, ran down his belly and pooled in
his navel. It formed a glistening rounded citrine for a moment,
then as he heaved again, lifting his buttocks and most of his back
off the bed, it trickled over the brown skin of his belly and onto
the bed. My cock pulled back so that only the head was still
imbedded inside the boy, for seconds he shuddered, his back
arching, his ribs standing out, more urine dribbling out as his
bladder lost control. For the first time, as we lay locked
together, our bodies heaving, both breathing quickly, I had watched
Dylan experience his orgasm. It had come quickly, without any real
warning because the boy had been on the edge of that precipice for
almost the entire time. The sight of Dylan's slender young body in
an ecstatic paroxysm, sharpened my own urge to the point where I
began to thrust as fast and hard as I dared. It took three, perhaps
four more lunges into the small, trembling boy before I felt my
balls tighten. I thrusted forward, seeking the boy's heat,
embedding my cock totally inside Dylan, my balls squeezing into his
crack. Then I felt my semen rising up in what seemed an endless
discharge, spurting deep into the hot, slippery flesh inside the
boy.
Together we sank back onto the bed, both of us quaking,
gasping, groaning, exhausted. I held Dylan tightly to me, knowing,
understanding that this was the time that he most needed my
protection, my comfort, my love. I whispered my love in the boy's
ear as he whimpered little puppy-dog cries, somewhere between pain
and pleasure. The boy looked back at me, his eyes part open,
unfocused. He was conscious, but only barely. I hugged his moist
body to mine, no longer exciting his penis, letting it subside,
caressed his silky hair, touched his lips with my fingers, smelled
the sweet musky aroma that drifted up from between our bodies.
Dylan held my hand tightly in his small hand, afraid to let go,
feeling the pressure inside his bowel slowly fade as my cock
softened.
He stirred, aware of the presence of my cock still deep inside
him, but missing the fullness. I kissed his lips, seeking his soft
wet tongue as his mouth opened, stroking his cheek with my finger-
tips, then carefully, lifting his legs up, pulled back away from
underneath the boy's buttocks. My cock popped out with a loud slurp
as Dylan complained with a deep sigh, but he sank back into the bed
peacefully resigned. Almost at that moment the bedroom seemed
different. It was dark and silent, except for our breathing no
sound disturbed the air, but with absolute certainty I knew that
someone else was in the room. The realization came in an instant,
a terrible dread even as I twisted away from Dylan, looking back
over my shoulder towards the door. Kelly stood in the doorway
watching. There was a sudden and very distinct taste of bile in my
throat, the inescapable knowledge that my son, nearly seven years
old had observed. In that instant I wondered how much he had seen,
how long he had been standing there, but I knew the answer even as
I saw him. The boy's right hand was at his groin, he was clutching,
unclutching, rubbing himself nervously, his breathing as heavy and
fast as Dylan or mine. "Oh my god," I whispered, my thoughts spoken
aloud to the two boys.
Dylan, his back to me, suddenly tensed, his voice scared, "Is
there blood?... Did I bleed,... a lot?"
"Huh? Ohhh,.... I.... I don't know,... Kelly's here,...
he's,... he's watching,... he saw us," I said, my voice rising in
panic.
"Oh!,... Oh shit,...Ohhhhh No!", Dylan whispered, then
twisted away from me, curling into the foetal position and
burrowing his head into the pillow as guilt and shame welled up
inside him.
"What are you doing to Dylan, Daddy?" Kelly asked, his voice
loud, anxious, frightened. I turned back to look at my son, trying
to find words, and words that could save us. I looked at the boy
dumbly, feeling my face reddening, swallowing, trying frantically
to think. "Why did you have your penis in Dylan's bottom?"
"Uh,...Uh,... Kelly, you shouldn't,... you shouldn't be
here.... Why,... why aren't you at Joey's?" I mumbled.
Kelly took a step forward, no longer at the door, now inside
the room. His hand was still squeezing between his legs, his knees
close together, protectively. Then another step into the darkness
of the room, the young boy now silhouetted in the doorway. "'Cause
you said. You said you were gonna pick me up at six o'clock 'n
Joey's dad wanted to go out for dinner." Kelly took another step
into the room, now only feet away. "Why don't you and Dylan have
any clothes on? I thought you were wrestling at first,... then I
saw you penis was in his bottom.... I thought you were hurting him!"
I shook my head, "Uh,....No,... No,... Kelly I'm not,... I'm
not hurting him, okay?"
"But what are you doing?" Kelly persisted. Then he smiled
slightly, "Are you making a baby?" The boy's smile widened and he
giggled, "But he's a boy,... and it takes a boy and a girl to make
a baby you said." I nodded. If ever there was a time I needed words
this was it, but words, thoughts, ideas escaped me. "Are you
teaching him how? Is he practising with you?"
I nodded stupidly, this was about as close as a seven-year-
old boy might get to understanding what he'd witnessed. "How
long,... how long have you been,... watching?" I asked awkwardly,
suddenly aware that Dylan was crying softly into the pillow, little
muffled sobs, his body shivering in shame and the shock of
discovery.
Kelly came another step closer to the bed so that he was now
standing next to us. "Since you made him lie down on his back. When
I first came up he was crouched down and you were doing something
to him with your fingers, but I couldn't see that." I swallowed,
my hands cupping my face in growing despair, shaking my head in
disbelief, wondering why I hadn't closed the door, better still,
locked it. "Does it hurt him to make babies?" Kelly asked softly,
curiously, then added, "Why's Dylan crying for, Daddy?"
I looked up at the almost seven-year-old boy, startled to see
that he was still clutching and unclutching his genitals, realizing
that it was not a nervous response, but something far more primal.
As I looked at my young son I sensed his arousal, the nervousness
born of excitement and it frightened me, it was suddenly obscene.
The boy that I had always cherished had witnessed my depravity with
Dylan, barely five years older than he was, and it had excited him,
it still excited him. I shook my head. "No Kelly, Dylan's okay,
really he is. You,... you surprised him."
Kelly nodded wisely, "Dylan I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Are
you sure he's okay, Daddy? Doesn't it hurt him when your penis is
in his bottom? It looked like it did. He was crying out a lot like
it hurt," the boy said with finality.
Dylan lifted his head up from the pillow, wiping his nose on
the back of his hand, turning slowly onto his side, then pressing
his now limp cock firmly against my thigh as he shook his head,
"I,... I'm okay Kelly.... It hurt's,... a little bit at first,...
but when I was crying,... it was because it felt so good."
"But,... well,... okay I s'pose. It smells funny in here but?"
Kelly observed.
Dylan smiled shyly, "That's me, the smell comes from inside
me."
"Oh,... But why did you put your penis in Dylan's bottom,
Daddy? You said only boys and girls make babies, is that how boys
do it?" Kelly continued, unsatisfied. "Do you do pee inside him?"
he asked, pointing to the dark circular stain that had formed on
the bed cover, "Is that pee-pee?"
I nodded, breathing out, surprised at my son's easy
acceptance, now strangely fascinated by the fact that the boy was
standing there beside us still persistently rubbing his genitals
through his jeans. "Kelly sit down on the bed, please." I said
gently. My son sat down. "Does your penis hurt?" I asked. Kelly
shook his head. "It feels good doesn't it?"
"Huh huh. It's nice," Kelly replied, smiling slightly at
Dylan. "Is that why you were rubbing Dylan's penis? To make him
feel nice?"
"Yes," I said. I was rubbing Dylan's penis and his bottom was
rubbing on mine. Some pee came out of Dylan's penis because mine
was pushing into his bladder, where his pee is stored until he has
to go to the bathroom. It made your penis feel nice too when you
were watching us, didn't it, Kelly? I asked.
My son glanced down at his jeans, entranced by the warm
pleasant feelings that emanated there, that had spread through his
entire body like fire, that made his spine tingle and his heart
pound. He blushed slightly, "It that bad? Grandma said I shouldn't
play it, but it feels so good when I touch it like that. Sometimes
I can't help it and it gets so hard that it sticks out in my
underpants."
"She's wrong Kelly, she doesn't understand boys. It's your
body to enjoy. I hope you do it whenever you want. Dylan does, don't
you," I added, "and so do I". Dylan nodded, his fingers reaching
downward, sliding over his flat brown belly, enclosing his penis,
squeezing gently, his slender fingers cupping the little rounded
hemisphere of his balls. "You like Dylan a lot, don't you Kelly?"
Kelly nodded. Dylan smiled, slowly sitting up, still stroking
his penis, his shame fading as he accepted the presence of another
person, a witness to his emerging sexuality. He winced as a little
spasm tightened in his bowel and he was aware of the rawness deep
inside, his bruised flesh beginning to ache and make him feel
slightly uncomfortable. "I like you a lot too Kelly," Dylan said
quietly, "I like your Dad a lot as well. I wish he was my father.
I never knew my father. Your dad is 'cool'. I really like him a
lot, you know."
I sat up and lovingly I placed one arm around Dylan's bare
shoulders and the other around Kelly, "Now I have two boys," I
laughed. "Do you think we should adopt Dylan? You'd have an older
brother, Kelly," I teased.
Kelly nodded, looking up at Dylan with admiration. "But what
about his mom?"
"Well,..." I began slowly, "when two people like each other a
lot, like I like Dylan,...and they're very close friends,... well
sometimes they do what we just did. They join their bodies together
and share themselves. It makes them feel very nice, and they become
even closer,... friends"
My son nodded, still looking at Dylan, "You and Dylan were
joined together," he said, "and you're friends. I saw you put your
penis inside Dylan's bottom,... does that mean you love him?"
My mouth opened in surprise and I glanced at Dylan. He was
gently caressing his cock, teasing it slowly, deliberately erect
again. That is one of the wonders of pre-teen boys, unable to
ejaculate, the 'turn-a-round' time is about zero. Once he'd started
the process, Dylan got hard in seconds. The boy smiled and nodded
at my son. I nodded too. "Kelly, what you saw us doing, you've got
to promise never to tell anyone, please," Dylan said
conspiratorially. "I,... I love your Dad,... it's hard to
explain,..." he looked at me hesitantly, unsure of what to say.
Kelly giggled knowingly, "But you can't get married, 'cause
you're both boys,... Don't worry Dylan, I won't tell." The younger
boy smirked, "His penis is getting bigger again," he observed.
I laughed, "He's always doing that. It's supposed to, Kelly.
It's because he's happy and excited and he wants to have fun."
"His penis isn't that much bigger than mine," Kelly said, then
giggled as he glanced downward, then across at me, adding, "But his
is tiny compared to yours".
Dylan grinned cheekily and flexed his now-hard penis, making
it slap loudly against his belly. I laughed, hugging Dylan to me
closely. "You're insatiable Dylan. But I think we'd better get on
our way home. We have a long way to go and we have to stop for
dinner. Now do me a favor will you and go in the bathroom and clean
up. 'specially back there okay. I don't want a mess on the car
seat." The two boys laughed loudly and Dylan slipped off the bed
and went over to the bathroom, walking gingerly. I smiled as I
watched his pale firm buttocks, I expected that it'd be some time
before Dylan was playing basketball again.
While Dylan was 'cleaning' up, Kelly helped me to remake the
bed. I changed the bed cover and took the soiled one down to the
laundry, rinsed out the stain and put it in the clothes dryer. By
the time I was back in the bedroom Dylan was already half dressed
and I dressed as the two boys talked. The trip back was uneventful,
we listened to the Charley Daniels Band, had dinner at the 'Stoned
Crow' and arrived home with Dylan almost at the exact time I'd
promised his mother. Right before Dylan got out of the car he turned
to me and gave me the biggest, wettest kiss of the day, then as he
got out of the car, promised to call me the next day. He waved from
the porch as I reversed into the drive. My son and I were going
home to have a long talk, a very long talk.
Chapter 7.
Almost as soon as I pulled onto the road my son leaned forward
from the back seat, placing his hands on the console between the
two front seats. He looked out the windscreen silently, sucking on
his bottom lip thoughtfully, the white tips of his baby teeth
visible as he turned his small head and looked up at me. I glanced
sideways at the boy as I drove down the road. Kelly was a very
handsome boy but not like Dylan for whom the word 'beautiful' is
entirely appropriate. "You have a good day, Kelly?" I asked as I
turned the corner.
"Huh huh. I had fun with Joey...." he replied, then looked
forward again. "Dad,...", he began, then hesitated, "... Dad I like
Dylan,..."
I breathed out slowly, remembering, dreaming, my thoughts only
on the beautiful twelve-year-old boy that had suddenly come into
my life. "Yeah,... I know,... I like Dylan too."
"Dad,... I wish,... well I wish Dylan was my brother," Kelly
said quietly.
I nodded, taking my right hand away from the steering wheel
and playfully ruffling my son's hair for a moment. The boy's hair
was silky soft, even softer than Dylan's, light brown with golden
strands that had been bleached by the sun. "That would be nice,...
I guess. You'd certainly have someone to play with," I answered.
"He's so nice,... like when he gave me his ice-cream at
dinner." I nodded, placing my hand back on the wheel as I turned
the corner. "Daddy,... you love Dylan don't you?..." I nodded again
as I glanced down and saw that Kelly was looking at me shyly,
curiously, "But you love him different to how you love me, or
mommy," the boy stated with an insight that was well advanced
beyond his nearly-seven years. Like Dylan, my son was a bright boy,
both boys were highly intelligent, both destined for college, for
a good profession.
"Yes, I guess so, more like how I love mommy than anything
else I s'pose," I said gently.
"But,.... well Dylan's a boy,... and well,... isn't that
different?" he persisted hesitantly as he tried to sort out the
differences for himself.
I knew then that I had to be honest with Kelly, I needed him
to understand what I felt for Dylan, why I loved him the way I did.
"Sometimes,...", I began then stopped, breathed out, then began
again. "You remember a while ago we talked about friends and how
sometimes you just like one person more than another at school."
"Yeah! It's because everyone's is different, and you like
things differently," Kelly answered.
"That's right. And some things you like a lot, some things
just a little bit or not at all." Kelly nodded in agreement. "I
want you to know that most men don't like boys the same way that I
like Dylan, they like boys but not in the same way. And most boys
that are Dylan's age like men, but not in the same way that Dylan
likes me," I said then breathed out, wondering where to go next.
"That makes you and Dylan kinda special, but,..." Kelly added.
"Most men and boys like girls,... or women,... in the way that
Dylan and I like each other," I continued.
Kelly shrugged, "I don't like girls," he said with conviction,
then added, "They're no fun to play with!"
Laughing, I ruffled his hair again, "You're not even seven
yet. You probably will when you're older, Kelly. There is probably
not a single boy your age in the whole world who likes girls. But
by the time most boys are about Dylan's age they begin to think
girls are 'cool'. Later on, when they're older, they get married."
Kelly shrugged again, "I'm not getting married when I'm
older!" he retorted. "Doesn't Dylan like girls? Maybe he isn't old
enough yet?"
My heart turned as the thought clamored in my mind. The
possibility that Dylan's affection was merely temporary, a brief
interlude before his interest was transformed to the opposite sex,
had never occurred to me. I felt an instant panic growing inside
me, a voice shouting in my head as I considered, then tried to deny
the possibility. "Maybe,..." I said quietly, breaking the silence
that had filled the car for long terrible seconds. "But I,... I
don't think so,... He might change as he gets older,... some boys
go through a stage at Dylan's age,...but they grow out of it in a
few years,... but I don't think so,... he might,... but I don't
think he will,..." I said hopefully, praying that I was right.
"But,... well why doesn't he like girls then?" Kelly
continued.
"I,... I'm not sure,... I don't think anyone really knows
why,... but some boys,... some men are like that." I breathed out,
turning the corner onto our street, then added as I slowed the car
down, "I think some boys are born like that. Some just grow up like
that,... liking boys more than girls."
"Do you think Dylan was born like that?" Kelly asked
curiously.
"I don't know, maybe,... I think so. A lot of boys don't even
realize that they're different until they're a bit older that
Dylan. Some even pretend to like girls because other boys will make
fun of them."
"Oh! That isn't very nice," Kelly said. "They're just
different,... Dylan can't help being the way he is." I opened the
garage door with the remote control, stopping the car briefly in
the driveway, before driving in and parking next to the Corvette.
Kelly scrambled forward and climbed out my door. "I hope I don't
like girls when I grow up,... I want to be just like Dylan when I
grow up."
I stifled a grin, wondering if Kelly knew what that would
mean. Until today I had never thought of Kelly as being sexy, but
as he stood there in the garage, waiting while I removed the remains
of the box of goodies, I saw him in a different light. When he was
older, more self-assured and confident, he'd be a lot like Dylan.
I placed my hand on his small shoulder, carrying the box under my
arm, as we walked out of the garage to the house.
I had Kelly go upstairs and get ready for bed and I spent the
new few minutes packing things away, then stood by the sink, my
mind going back and forth over what had happened at the farm,
wondering whether Dylan would, in fact, grow out of it. I hoped not
but then I had a vested interest. "Heh Dad," Kelly called from
upstairs, breaking into my thoughts.
"Yeah I'm coming tiger," I shouted back, my reverie
interrupted. I went into the hall and up the stairs. Kelly was
standing at the top of the stairs, naked except for his underpants,
there was a small rounded bump in the V between his slender legs,
tanned from long summer's days in the sun. He smiled slowly. "You
done your teeth?" I asked.
Kelly nodded. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Dad?" he
asked.
I glanced at the boy as I came up to him, then reached out and
lovingly stroked his back, "Yeah,... I guess so. But no wriggling
around, okay? It's way past your bedtime, you have to go straight
to sleep," I said, postponing the long talk that I needed to have
with him. Kelly nodded. "Where's you pj's?" I asked.
"Do I have to?" he answered, following me into the bedroom. I
turned back to the boy, seeing a small shy smile forming on his
face. I shrugged. The smile broadened, flashing perfect white baby-
teeth, a gap on one side that had yet to be replaced. The boy took
a few running steps and leaped onto the bed, then slid his legs
under the sheet. In that one simple motion I thought he was
remarkably like Dylan. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth,
turning off the bedroom lights as I went. The image of Dylan, just
a few hours earlier running into the bedroom, leaping onto the bed,
of the things that followed, was paramount in my mind. I lingered
in the bathroom for as long as I could, then came back into the
bathroom. Kelly stirred, barely awake, "Dad,... I'm glad you
love,... Dylan," he murmured sleepily. I pulled back the sheet and
lowered myself carefully onto the bed next to him. The boy's nearly
naked body was curled up and very dark against the bottom sheet.
He looked small and fragile and he turned slightly pressing his
warm body against mine. I caressed the boy's forehead, brushing
back his silky hair, trying to imagine what Dylan was doing, then
gently, ever so lightly I began to run my fingers up and down his
back and shoulders as he dropped of to sleep.
I lay awake for a long time that night, for several hours my
thoughts were only of Dylan, wondering, dreaming, thinking. I
returned the memory of Dylan's beautiful, slender body, the ease
with which he swam, his lithe young body moving urgently, hungry
for excitement, his passionate kiss as he got of the car, the
overpowering feelings of love that I had when we were joined as
one, of the wonderful sensation I'd experienced inside him. Finally
I drifted off to sleep.
Kelly woke me up by wriggling. He always does that and it's a
good reason not to sleep in the same bed as a nearly-seven-year-
old boy. It was just after eight o'clock. For a moment I lay there,
trying to revisit the last fragments of my dream, putting the
pieces back together. It had involved Dylan, of course. We'd been
doing something but I wasn't certain what it had been. He held my
hand, we were walking, his hand was so small, and warm. He was
teasing me,... Kelly wriggled again, insistently, squirming. "Go
'sleep,..." I mumbled. He wriggled again, sticking his sharp little
elbow into my ribs, "Go 'sleep,... or go play in your room," I said,
the last vestiges of my dream disappearing, the fragments
interrupted.
"It's morning,... time to get up," the boy chirped in a sing-
song voice.
"It's Sunday, you dodo,..." I sighed, stretching out into the
cooler part of the bed, and rolling away from the wriggling boy.
"And stop wriggling around!"
"I'm trying to get comfortable!" he retorted. "... Dad,... do
you think we'll see Dylan today," he asked
"Huh,... Oh I don't know, maybe," I replied, knowing that any
chance of continued sleep was gone for good. "Why?"
"I hope so," Kelly said, "'cause he's fun, and I like him".
"We'll see,... I guess", I said with a sigh, wondering,
hoping, then adding, "I hope so too. Now stop wriggling,... and if
you stick that elbow in my back one more time, you die."
There was a burst of giggles, then a moment's hesitation, then
a hard sharp force in my back, right below the shoulder blade. That
did it and I twisted over, pulling the sheet down, as I grabbed the
boy and began to tickle him furiously. He giggled hysterically,
kicked and struggled, squealed in delight as we wrestled. I pinned
him down, made him promise to behave, then rolled off, only to be
confronted by another attack from my nearly naked son. We tumbled
and rolled together, scrambling over each other as we grappled in
playful combat, until breathless, and pretending defeat I flopped
onto my back. Kelly straddled me triumphantly, "Kelly Weston, the
winner," he shrieked, raising his arms high above his head,
stretching the skin of his chest until his ribs stood out. I grinned
at the laughing boy sitting astride my hips, our battle temporarily
suspended.
"My penis is hard like Dylan's was. See!" he announced,
looking downward. My eyes followed his. The boy's erection was
unmistakable, the cotton of his underpants stretched tightly over
the small, but very hard projection between his outstretched legs.
He giggled, his right arm coming down from above his head, his hand
reaching, fingers stretched out, touching the taut clothe, the
slight quiver as his fingertips felt the pleasant warmth
underneath. I closed my eyes trying to blot out the thrill that I
felt, the surge of excitement almost as intense as what I'd felt
for Dylan. Then suddenly unable to bear the contact with his body,
I lifted forty-eight pounds of boy tossed him onto his back,
reached down and pulled the sheet upward over my waist. Kelly
looked at me curiously, lying back on the bed, his fingers gently
stroking, shamelessly touching his hard penis. "Why does it do
that?" he asked.
"Huh," I said absently, glad that my own groin was covered,
knowing that my body had already begun to respond of it's own
accord.
"Why does my penis get hard,... like Dylan's?" he asked again.
I breathed out, swallowing, willing my arousal to fade, trying
to clear my mind of the frightening possibility. "Huh,... oh,...
it's because it feels good. Every boy's penis does that,... gets
hard. When you get excited, sometimes,... excited because you feel
good,... then blood rushes into your penis, and makes it stand up."
"It's so hard, but," Kelly observed, his fingers squeezing,
testing the firmness, "It feels a lot bigger too," he said in awe.
"That's the way it's supposed to be. Like if you filled a
balloon with water, it'd get bigger wouldn't it, and when it was
really full it'd be kind of hard when you pushed against it," I
replied.
Kelly nodded, "Yeah,... I s'pose. What if it breaks, or bursts
or something but?" he asked.
I laughed, "It's not going to burst. If you leave it alone
it'll gradually go down."
"Oh,... it feels good but," Kelly admitted, stroking his small
erection carefully. "Does Dylan's penis feel good when it's big
like this? Is that why you were rubbing it as well,... when your
penis was in his bottom?"
I smirked at the boy's uninhibited curiosity "I expect so.
It's supposed to feel good. And yes, I was rubbing his penis to
make him feel good."
"It feels better the more I touch it," Kelly volunteered. He
giggled, his fingers discovering the increased pleasure as they
enclosed the small hot shaft under the soft cotton of his
underpants.
"It feels even better if you take your underpants off," I
grinned, "But that's something that a boy does by himself, or with
someone that he likes very much."
"Like you and Dylan?" Kelly prompted.
I nodded, "It's called masturbating by the way...." Kelly
nodded, his fingers sliding up and down over the short raised
elongation in his underpants that pointed upward to his navel,
growing slightly smaller as it went. It was perhaps a half-inch
high, the length of his penis impossible to determine since his
testicles formed part of the shape. I smiled, fascinated by the
boy's discovery of his own capacity for pleasure. His little
fingers moved faster. "It feels good doesn't it?" I added gently.
Kelly barely noticed me, "Huh huh,..." he whispered. His
fingers tightened, extracting even more delight, stroking on the
sensitive tip. "Oh!... It's making me feel funny," Kelly muttered.
I raised my eyebrows and grinned, my son's arms and legs were
covered with gooseflesh, the small muscles in his legs beginning
to strain, lifting his groin up to meet his fluttering hand.
"Can,... can I take my undies off?" he asked uncertainly after a
few more moments.
I wanted to say that it was 'okay', to sit back on the bed and
watch, but I shook my head as my heart leaped. "It's okay to do
that, if you want,... but you have to go into your room to do that,
okay, Kelly," I said firmly. The boy looked at me, disappointment
flashing across his face, then pouting, took his hand away
reluctantly.
Then he shrugged, as if the interruption to his enjoyment was
of no importance, already forgotten. "You wanna wrestle some more?"
he asked.
"In a bit," I teased, "You wore me out last time," I added,
watching the boy carefully. Kelly paused a minute, then lunged,
springing up from his reclining position and yelping as he went on
the attach. I caught him in my arms, toppling the writhing,
giggling boy onto his belly, pressing him down into the pillows and
then delivering a firm smack to his small bottom. He squealed and
struggled as I let him. He knelt on the bed, grinning cheekily,
watching me unchallenged, considering his next point of attack. The
phone rang.
I shook my head, then reached over past the boy, poised for
combat, and picked up the phone. The time was a little past nine
o'clock and I wondered who would call at that time on a Sunday
morning. I hoped it was Dylan. The voice on the other end was
familiar and I recognized it quickly. "Hello, it's Diane, Diane
Brady, Dylan's mom."
"Hi! Good morning!" I answered brightly.
"Who is it Daddy?" Kelly asked.
I shook my head, "Dylan's mom," I replied, then added, "I've
got a pesky seven-year-old boy here who want's to know who I'm
talking to."
Diane answered, "No worse than a twelve-year-old boy I'm sure.
I just wanted to call and thank you for taking Dylan with you
yesterday. He had a great time."
Kelly climbed up next to me, trying to listen to the
conversation but I pushed him away playfully and held him down with
one hand, easily overcoming his ineffectual struggles. "No
problem,... we had a great time too. He's a lot of fun.... We
enjoyed having him, really we did."
There was silence on the other end of the line, then Diane's
voice again, less confident this time, "I,... I'm afraid my son has
a bad case of puppy love,..." she said quietly.
"Huh?" I said uncertainly, nervously, waiting for the woman
on the other end of the line to respond.
"He likes you a great deal, I guess you could call the way he
feels about you 'puppy love'. He's talked about you non-stop. We
had a long talk last night when he got home...." She paused, waiting
for my acknowledgment. I wondered what Dylan had told her. I
hesitated to answer. "He's fond of you,... very fond of you," she
admitted slowly. "You're,... good for him," she added, then after
another pause, "I'm glad he's,... friends,...with you."
"Well,... I like Dylan too," I said at last. "He's an easy boy
to be friends with," I added noncommittally.
The silence seemed endless before Diane came back, "I,... I've
always known that Dylan was,... different,... I think you know,...
what I mean," she said hesitantly, her voice strained. Silence
again.
"I,... think so," I answered.
"I don't want him to grow up,... like,... some men,... like
that. You're good for him,... I trust you Alex,... I'm not sure I
could trust Dylan with another man,... or trust anyone else with
Dylan."
"Huh huh," I said weakly, barely breathing, my face flushing
as a sudden hot wave of guilt spilled over me.
"Dylan,... told me what happened at the farm," Diane said
awkwardly, her voice trembling nervously.
"Oh!" I gasped in sudden fear.
"I,... he told me everything you understand,... I'm not
angry,... sooner or later that would have happened, anyway. It was
just a matter of time, I wish he was older, but.... I'm glad it was
you,... he was safe,... and from what he said,... I think it was
the right thing,... for him,... and you too." Her voice trailed
off.
"I love Dylan," I said honestly, "I love him a great deal."
"Yes, yes I know that. My son is the same way. I,... I guess
that's why I'm glad. I know you'll be,... gentle with him too. It's
just that,... well I don't want him acting like Paul, I told you
about him, he's in my department,... It isn't that he's gay, but
he's with a different one every week, and he flaunts it."
I breathed out, trying to clear my head, fogged with
disbelief, "Dylan is very special to me, Diane. This isn't
something that goes away quickly,... I want Dylan to know what it's
like,... to,... have someone he can trust." I wanted to say 'love'
but I hesitated.
"Yes,... I know that. From the way Dylan was talking, he's met
the right person to be,... friends with..... I just wanted you to
know that it's okay,... that I, well I understand it, and,... well
what happens between the two of you is your business."
"I don't know what to say, Diane," I said quietly.
"Anyway, Dylan's on his way over to your house. He should be
there soon I guess. He was worried about what you'd think,... about
me finding out.... Alex,... he needs you, more than ever now," she
finished. I could hear the sobbing start in the second or two as
she put the phone down.
"What was that all about? What did Dylan's mom want?" Kelly
asked curiously.
"Huh?" I said, engrossed in my own thoughts, still struggling
in utter disbelief at what had transpired. "Huh? Oh,... Dylan's on
his way over here. She was calling to say that's she's glad Dylan
is our friend."
"Does she know about you and Dylan making babies?" he asked
cheekily, his voice teasing gently.
I looked up, "You little bugger, you promised that was a
secret."
Kelly smirked, "I haven't told anyone,... yet!"
"You better not either, young man," I smiled. "Besides his mom
knows anyway. That's what she called about, to say it was okay," I
answered happily.
"For you and Dylan to make babies?" Kelly persisted.
I laughed, tossing the pillows at my son so that he to scramble
away to avoid getting hit, "It's not making babies. That takes a
boy and a girl, not two boys, you know that!"
"Yeah, I know that, but,... well what do you call it? What you
and Dylan do?" my son asked.
The doorbell rang downstairs, interrupting my answer to his
question and I jumped up, grabbing my dressing gown. I turned and
grinned at Kelly, "Having fun!" I called back as I ran down the
stairs and into the front hall. I saw Dylan standing outside the
back door. He was wearing denim shorts a long-sleeved shirt, does
the boy ever wear anything else? He was grinning and he waved as
he saw me in my underpants, the dressing down wide open at the
front. I opened the door, resisting the impulse to sweep Dylan into
my arms, to kiss him, to carry him upstairs into my bedroom and do
incredibly wonderful things to his delicious young body. I opened
the door and as he passed between me and the door frame I caught
the scent of his freshly shampooed hair. Standing there in the
morning light, slender, tanned, radiating life, grinning cheekily,
he was, I decided, the most wonderful, perfect person in the world.
"Hi! I wasn't sure if I should use the back door," he said as if
to explain his presence in my house.
"Hi yourself!" I replied.
"I see you're up and dressed", he teased, grinning wickedly.
"Your mom just called," I said then waited, enjoying my game
with the marvellous boy standing only a foot away.
"Oh?.... What did she want?" The boy asked uncertainly.
"We had a long talk about you," I replied honestly
The boy hesitated, his uncertainty building, "What did she
say?"
I stepped closer to Dylan and he looked up, his pale-blue eyes
locked on mine, "Oh, this and that...."
"Come on, tell me," he insisted, his eyes sparkling. I feasted
my eyes on the boy, captivated by the little cleft above his upper
lip, the soft cheek, so absolutely smooth, a tiny dimple at the
corner of his mouth, the long thin eyebrows, so blond and pale that
they were barely distinguishable against the brown skin of his
temple. But it was the pure white of his eyes surrounding the pale
sky-blue, the intense pupils, as he looked expectantly into my
eyes, that held my interest the most. His golden-blond hair was
brushed but it had fallen forward over his forehead, his ears were
small and delicately sculptured. His lips were full, dark, slightly
pursed as he breathed through his mouth. "Tell me," he repeated.
It was almost impossible not to laugh, to pull him towards me,
to kiss him, to tell him again and again that I loved him, but Kelly
interrupted. He leaned forward over the stair rail, his voice high-
pitched, giggling in a sing-song. "Dylan and Daddy are in love,
Dylan and Daddy are in love... Hi Dylan!"
Dylan grinned, "Hi Kelly", he called out good naturedly to the
almost naked boy on the stairs. He turned back to me, smiling, "You
know I told her what happened don't you. You're not angry are you?"
I smiled, shaking my head at the beautiful boy. "When I got home,
I think we must have talked for hours. I told her we had sex and
she didn't mind,... well kind of, she said she wished I was
older,... but she wasn't angry that you and I did it." I nodded,
watching the boy's eyes, in their own way still innocent, despite
what had happened the day before. "You're not angry, are you?" he
asked again.
"I'm not angry but I'm starving," I finally laughed unable to
hold back. I pulled Dylan to me, felt the boy's lithe body press
urgently forward, his arms tighten around my waist as my hands slid
up and down his slender back, massaging the firm muscles, the
ripples of his ribs as they joined to his spine. "I missed you last
night," I whispered in his ear.
"I know, me too,... I tried to jerk off thinking about you,...
it didn't help much," the boy whispered back.
"What are you guys doing?" Kelly interrupted. "You're not
gonna make babies again, are you?" he added teasingly, "'cause if
you are I'm goin' upstairs and watch cartoons".
Dylan stifled a laugh and I pulled away from the kiss we both
knew was about happened, "Nothing. You can watch cartoons if you
want, Kelly. I'm making waffles for breakfast," I announced. "You
hungry, kiddo?" I asked Dylan.
The boy shrugged, "I ate Cheerios already. Yeah, okay."
"You can help if you want, or go up and watch TV with Kelly,
take your pick," I said moving a little further back and trying to
resist the temptation to take Dylan back into my arms and ravish
him on the spot, knowing that his soft brown boy-flesh would taste
a whole lot better that waffles with real maple syrup.
"I'll help you, okay", he said at once, then his voice dropped
conspiratorially, "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too, Dylan Brady", I said quietly.
Dylan followed me into the kitchen and Kelly went back up the
stairs. He didn't help much, in fact he did his utmost to distract
me, leaning back against the sink, looking happy and content,
almost smug, aware that I followed his every movement, his every
word. He talked aimlessly about his bike that he'd ridden on to
come to my house, about how the chain was loose, but he wasn't sure
how to tighten it properly, because every time it came loose. I
told him I'd look at it later on, after breakfast, maybe the threads
had been stripped.
I piled the three waffles, syrup, and three glasses of milk
onto a tray and headed out of the kitchen, Dylan following right
behind, still chattering incessantly. I went up to the bedroom,
depositing the tray on the side table. Kelly was stretched out,
lying on his belly on the floor in front of the television, still
dressed only in his underpants, his legs splayed wide apart, the
small bulge of his tiny testicles visible between them. I dropped
my dressing gown on the floor and sat back on the bed. Dylan stood
near the bedroom door, looking shyly first at me, then at Kelly,
both naked except for our underpants.
"You wanna eat on the bed here with me,... or with Kelly, on
the floor?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be. Dylan took
a step closer, his eyes riveted on my briefs, knowing what the
prominent bulge was. He could feel his own penis, swelling
instantly, protruding outwards into the confinement of his shorts.
"If you want, you can take off your clothes, Dylan," I said. I
pretended to ignore the boy, lifting the waffles onto the plates
and pouring a generous amount of syrup over each one, but I followed
Dylan's every move. He hesitated for a moment, then overcoming any
inhibition he had, kicked off his Nike Airs and tugged his socks
off. He unfastened his shirt buttons and pulled his arms free,
dropping the shirt on the floor, then unfastened his belt, opened
his zipper and slid out of his shorts. He still wore'little-boy'
underpants, the white-cotton kind made by Jockey, with the high
sides and the flap in front. Kelly swivelled around and grinned as
he saw the older boy dressed only in his underpants, coming easily
to his feet and walking over to pick up his plate and glass of milk.
Dylan stood by the other side of the bed, lifted back the sheet,
and smiled at Kelly. "Dylan's penis is hard again, Daddy?" my son
observed, "You can see it sticking out in his undies."
I laughed, "Like I said, that happens a lot to Dylan,... and
you too as you get older. It's supposed to do that." Dylan blushed
slightly and sat down on the bed, sliding his legs under the sheet
and pulling it up so that his erection was covered. Except for a
small rise between the boy's legs, there was no sign of it under
the sheets.
"You said it gets hard like that because he's happy, and
excited, and he feels good,... but, well,... why does he feel like
that now?" Kelly asked, then sipped his milk as he looked at the
two of us in the bed.
"Because he's in bed with me without any clothes on,... well
almost with no clothes,... and he likes it. So do I," I added
patiently.
Kelly giggled, "Is your penis sticking out too Daddy?" he
asked teasingly.
I turned and grinned at Dylan, then looked back at my son,
"Huh huh, I like being naked with Dylan," I answered honestly.
Kelly giggled again as he turned back to the TV, "But he's
still got his undies on!" he contradicted, then added as an after
thought in his sing-song teasing voice, "Daddy and Dylan are in
love".
I was aware of a movement in the bed next to me, the boy
lifting his legs up under the sheet, then pushing them back down.
Dylan smirked at me knowingly, brought his left hand out from under
the sheets, holding a finger to his lips for an instant, then taking
it away. As Kelly settled back down on the floor in front of the
television, carefully so as not to spill his milk, Dylan reached
for my right hand, the one nearest to him, and drew it towards him,
downwards under the sheet. My finger tips brushed against the soft
satiny skin of his belly, then an inch or two further, I touched
the bare flesh of boy's small but very hot cock. It was very hard
and seemed to be throbbing with a life of it's own. Dylan sighed
as he breathed out slowly, his blue eyes sparkling with boyish
mischief as he pulled his other hand out from under the sheet,
clutching his underpants. He dropped them on the floor casually.
"Now you," he whispered.
I grinned back at him and nodded, lifting my buttocks up
quickly pulling my briefs off. I sat up, straightening my legs,
noticing the tent in the sheet that covered my groin. Dylan stifled
a giggle as soon as he noticed. A moment later I felt his small
warm hand slip over my thigh and enclose my cock, squeezing firmly,
playfully, his fingers barely meeting his thumb when he tightened
his grip. "He's really huge," Dylan whispered. "I don't believe you
got him inside me yesterday,... twice,... do you?"
"What are you guys whispering'bout?" Kelly demanded.
"Nothing?" Dylan said, pulling his hand back from my cock
slowly. "Is the waffle any good?" he added.
"Hummm,.... yeah," Kelly replied between bites. "It tastes
great."
"Of course," I said, "I made it!" I passed a plate and a glass
of milk to Dylan and took one for myself. It was very difficult to
believe that the impossible had happened, that I was sitting naked
in bed with a very beautiful twelve-year-old boy, with the consent
of his mother.
"Heh, this is good!" Dylan announced after his first bite,
"It's better than Frisch's, or anything." I laughed, watching Dylan
chew, engaged by the boy's infectious grin, his perfect white
teeth, the shine of his golden-blond hair. He slurped his milk
noisily, leaving a white film on his lips. "You gonna eat your's
or what?" he teased.
I laughed, "No, I think I'll let you eat it,... then I'll eat
you! I bet you taste even better."
Dylan chortled, brushing the hair back from his forehead and
out of his eyes as he ate. He looked up at me between bites, "I
taste pretty good." I took a bite of my waffle, relishing the sweet
syrup, still watching the boy eat and drink, unable to take my eyes
away. He finished first and reached over me to place his empty plate
and glass back on the table. I felt the firm warmth of his lean
body press against mine, the 'electric' shock as his bare skin
touched mine, then he turned back settling down next to me to watch
cartoons.
Almost as soon as Kelly finished his breakfast he came to his
feet, leaving his plate and glass on the floor, he looked at the
two of us lying side by side in the bed and shrugged in disinterest.
"I'm gonna play with my train set,... in my room," he announced.
"You wanna come Dylan?"
"Later on, maybe. When your Dad's in the shower, okay," the
boy volunteered.
Kelly ambled out of my bedroom room and into his own. Dylan
smiled shyly, "Well,...?" he said, his voice suddenly turning husky
again. "What do you want to do,... now?" he asked, his eyes
flickering with growing excitement.
I smiled back at him, "I want to eat you all up," I said
quietly.
"All of me? Everything?"
"Huh, huh,...all of you," I said. "Everything!"
"Everything?...Even my dick?" Dylan asked huskily.
"'specially your dick," I whispered, gently placing my hand
on the boy's soft cheek. I caressed the smooth skin lovingly with
my fingertips, wondering how long before he would have before he
began to shave, moving my hand back towards his small ear, stroking
the delicate lobe, then under, sinking my fingers in the silky
hair, like soft down. Dylan quivered under my touch, his body
trembling noticeably as his arousal intensified.
"How do you feel? Does it still feel sore inside?" I asked
gently, remembering what I'd done to the boy the previous day.
"Okay,...There was blood on my underpants this morning, but"
Dylan said. "Just a little bit but, like a smear, I think it was
from yesterday. It feels sort of sore in my belly, and my hole
itches a bit. I don't mind if you wanna do it now, except for Kelly
might come in."
I nodded, slowly drawing the boy's head forward. Instinctively
his tongue came forward and licked his lips, his eyes closed, lips
pursed, he took a quick breath. As we kissed his arms settled around
me and I held him tightly. The kiss he had given in the car outside
his house the previous night was only a promissory note. It was
long and hot and very very wet. Still kissing, I pulled Dylan over
on top of me, our bodies coming together, his light weight barely
noticeable. We were breathless, and speechless when that kiss
ended. The kiss had concentrated all of our pent-up feelings, the
loneliness we'd both experienced while we were apart, it was the
most passionate kiss I have ever known. As soon as we parted Dylan
flicked his head and smirked cheekily, "I want to eat you first,...
okay?"
He didn't give me the opportunity to answer because he
wriggled downward in the bed, sliding under the sheets, until his
head rested on my belly. I felt his small fingers touch against my
balls, fondling the soft skin, playfully rolling them around, then
the hot moistness of his lips as his lips kissed the swollen head
if my cock. The moistness quickly became wet and very very soft,
like a band sliding down my cock as he took it into his mouth. His
head rocked gently, moving my cock back and forth, his fingers
massaging my balls with increasing pressure. For a moment he pulled
his mouth away, breathing deeply, "Okay?" he asked shyly, his voice
betraying his doubt, of his ability to satisfy me.
"You feel wonderful, Dylan," I sighed, reaching down with both
hands to hold his silky head.
"Yeah? It tastes a bit salty,...but I like it," he said,
shifting slightly, this time his tongue touching, then licking,
then sucking on my balls, his hand partially enclosing the shaft
of my cock, moving rhythmically up and down the entire length. He
alternated between my cock and balls, long wonderful minutes,
gradually getting faster and he overcame his own reluctance and
accepted my cock deeper and deeper into his mouth. Then, after I
could barely stand it any longer he pulled back, taking the head
of my cock, settling his teeth into the ridge behind the helmet-
head, and swirling his tongue over and around it, pressing into the
slit as far as he could go. He began to use his hand on my cock as
well, vibrating his hand, then his forearm, faster and faster until
I felt my orgasm build up inside me.
I gasped, groaned, then gasped again, knowing that the boy
needed to make his own decision. "It's coming, it's coming,... Ohhh
Yeahhhh," I gasped. Dylan's response was to sink his mouth down,
bobbing his head up and down as fast as he could, jerking the sheet
downward to expose his golden-blond head moving as rapidly as he
could. I shuddered, arching my back, clutching Dylan's head as
tightly as I could as I felt my juice explode out into the boy. He
was ready and waiting for it. As he tasted the first salty spurt
he swallowed, pushing down even harder onto my cock, forcing it all
the way to the back of his mouth and part of the way into his
throat. My ejaculation seemed to last for ever, almost filling the
boy, but in reality little more than a teaspoon or two.
Dylan waited until I was finished, until the last dying spasm,
until my throbbing cock began to soften, before he finally pulled
away and wriggled back up to lie beside me, his small blond head
lying safely on my chest, cuddled closely to me with my arm wrapped
protectively around his shoulders. Like me, the boy was breathless,
but his eyes were happy and his cheeky smile was victorious. "You
like that?" he teased as his breathing quickened and his heart
slowed.
"Yeahhh! You're incredible Dylan," I said effusively. "That
was truly 'awesome'!" He smiled. his pink small tongue licking at
his lips. "So,... what do you think of the taste huh?" I asked.
"'s okay, it's salty,... it sure is thick but,... It seemed
like a lot came out,... it tastes a bit like clam chowder,...
without the clams but," he giggled playfully, moving his tongue
around as he savored the residual after taste.
"What about the potatoes?" I teased.
Dylan giggled, "Hmmmm,... no I don't think so," he said. "Do
you think I'll have a lot when I'm older?"
"Probably," I said, hoping that day would never come.
"The worst part is I got hairs in my mouth. Yuk," Dylan
complained. "I don't mind your come, it's okay,... but hairs are
yucky."
I laughed, "Sorry about that. I'm afraid there's not much we
can do about it though."
Dylan giggled, his fingers descending down my belly, back to
my cock, gently tracing the wet, sticky shaft, then he twisted his
head back and looked up at me, "Yes there is! You could shave him,"
he said playfully.
I laughed, "That's not a bad idea, except I'd have to do it
every day."
"Okay," Dylan teased, "If you do, then I'll suck him every
day, okay?"
I looked at Dylan and he grinned, "What about when you start
school in a few weeks?"
"I'll come after school," he said cheekily, "'course if all
you wanna do is fuck me, well, I guess it's not a big problem then."
He squeezed my limp penis gently but firmly, then increased the
stakes, "I dare you!" he grinned, then raised the ante yet again,
"I double dare you!"
I began to laugh, pulled Dylan to me, hugged him tightly and
kissed him as hard as I could. I tasted my semen inside the boy's
mouth, no longer as salty, but the lingering strange taste still
on his tongue. "Okay I guess, but when you're here, you have to do
it,... beginning right now."
"Huh? Me?... I don't have any hair there yet!" he smirked.
"That's not what I mean. You do the shaving," I said.
"Oh!... Now?" he asked uncertainly.
"Huh huh! Well unless you want me to do you now?" I laughed.
"Come on you're going to have to learn how to shave sooner or later
anyway. You can have a shower with me, and do it then," I added
swinging my legs out of the bed. I pulled Dylan after me, leading
the giggling boy towards the bathroom door.
The memory of his first shower with me at the farm was very
strong, but he hesitated at the door, "But,... well I promised
Kelly I'd play with him while you were showering. He wants to show
me his train set," Dylan said.
I grinned and turned around. It was a nice thing for him to
have said. "I don't think Kelly will mind that much, but let's go
see," I said, leading the way back out through the bedroom and into
my son's bedroom. Kelly was still in his underpants, sitting cross-
legged in front of the train set, the control unit in his lap,
switching the trains back and forth as they zipped around the
track.
He was engrossed in his game, making engine sounds as the
steam locomotive backed up into the siding. I knocked lightly on
the door and looked up almost immediately, realizing our presence,
and he grinned, "Hi!" he said. "Have you guys finished making
babies already?" he teased. "You were a lot faster than last time."
Dylan blushed slightly, swivelling to me, then seeing me
smile, relaxed. "We weren't making babies, Kelly. We were,...", he
glanced back at me, "Well boys can't do that,... make babies,...
it's not what it's called anyway."
Kelly looked up pouting, "So what is it called? What you two
do together," he asked.
"I,... well,... I know one word for it,... but it's dirty,"
he answered awkwardly. I stifled a laugh as Dylan looked at me
seriously. I shrugged, sooner or later Kelly would hear the word
anyway. "It's called,... 'fucking'," Dylan said expertly.
"There are other words for it Kelly, but that's one of them.
Dylan's right, it is a dirty word. It's not a word that you should
use with anyone else, okay? If I hear you saying it, except to me
or Dylan, you die tiger," I said, pretending seriousness.
My son nodded, his curiosity unquenchable, "So what did you
do then?" he asked looking up at the two of us, both naked, Dylan
standing slightly in front and to one side of me, his penis no
longer fully erect, but in the half-aroused stage, when instead of
pointing upward, it was still firm enough to point outwards and
downwards. My own penis was completely satisfied, hanging loose and
limp between my legs, still glistening slightly, but noticeably wet
with Dylan's saliva and my own semen.
I laughed, playfully hugging Dylan to me, "We had fun,... and
Dylan had breakfast," I replied.
Dylan walked over towards Kelly, oblivious to his nakedness,
then squatted down next to my son. "This is a 'cool' train set.
Have you had it long?"
Kelly smiled at the older boy, "I got it for Christmas, didn't
I Daddy", then he added, "You wanna play with it Dylan?"
"Dylan and I are going to take a shower together, okay. I know
he promised,... but do you mind?" I asked. Kelly shook his head,
then not ignoring us, but totally engrossed in his game, continued
to play as if we weren't there. "Come on Dylan," I said, "Kelly, I
want you to get dressed." The boy nodded absently as Dylan came to
his feet and followed me back out of the bedroom and into the
bathroom.
I turned the shower on and sat down on the toilet. Dylan stood
before me, only a foot away at most, his belly about at the same
level as my eyes, his tiny intruded navel almost, but not quite
half-covered by a little fold of brown skin. His penis had relaxed
even further, a small soft appendage hanging downward, lifted
outward slightly by the rounded hemisphere of his testicles. I
leaned forward, placing my arms around the boy's back and with the
tip of my tongue touched his navel, probing into the small cavity
and flicking playfully. Dylan giggled and pulled away, "That
tickles," he admonished.
"It's supposed to," I laughed, then added, "I haven't had my
breakfast,...yet."
Dylan took a step forward, "Okay,... but no tickling. I have
to go pee too and I'll do it all over you if you tickle me."
"Okay, I'll behave." I placed my hands back on Dylan's hips,
tempted by the small, but extremely tasty morsel that he presented
to me. Instead I twisted the boy around so that he faced away from
me, keeping my hands at the same level so that I now cupped the
full roundness of his small cheeks. The skin was paler there than
anywhere else on his body, delicate and smooth. Gently I prised the
two halves apart, noticing the boy's involuntary shiver, wondering
immediately whether he felt more pain there than he let on. I looked
into his crack, the fine dividing line running from his spine, all
the way to the swelling of his scrotum, broken only by his small
anus. I was not sure what I should have expected, perhaps I thought
he would have returned to his virgin state, his hole small and
puckered, the lips flaring slightly before the wrinkly tissue
vanished inside him. I expected his anus to be a little darker but
it wasn't. Around the puffed out rim there was a purplish ring,
between a half and three-quarters of an inch thick. I touched the
bud of the boy's anus very gently barely touching the sensitive
tissue. He winced unmistakably. "Sorry, it hurts doesn't it?" I
asked.
"Yeah! A bit sore," he breathed out, "It hurts more when I try
to poop," he added.
"Dylan, it's a bit bruised and it's kind of swollen, I'm
sorry," I said.
"It's okay."
"No it's not. Dylan I want to look inside to see if there's
more damage?" I said, "I'll try to be careful. It might hurt a bit."
The boy nodded. I wasn't even sure I knew what to look for, but
carefully I placed my fingers against the rim of the boy's opening
and pressed back. The hole was small and very tight but there was
a thin reddish line that led back down. It was at the place closest
to his scrotum, the place where the pressure had been the greatest,
where his young body, unable to accommodate the cock that had
demanded entry, taken possession of his slender body, had finally
broken. The fissure wasn't deep but it obviously painful for Dylan.
I swallowed guiltily, the shame returning with a vengeance.
"There's a little split inside. I think that's what hurts," I said.
"It's hurts a fair bit when I squeeze on it," Dylan
volunteered.
"I guess it would," I said, "I think there's something in the
vanity cupboard that'd help," I added, pressing on Dylan's buttocks
gently so that he stepped away. I stood up and went to the vanity,
opened the cupboard and found some analgesic ointment for internal
use. Dylan came over as I unscrewed the cap, and leaned forward
over the vanity, placing his hips against the curved edge of the
marble, his hands on the top to take his weight. I dropped to my
knees, then reached forward, carefully parting the boy's small
cheeks again. I squeezed a big fat gob out and smeared it into the
boy's hole. He sighed as the cool ointment oozed into his aching
body. "It'll feel better in a few minutes, Dylan," I said, gently
rotating my finger, the tip intruding slightly into the boy's moist
dank heat. "We'll put some more in there later on."
"It feels better already," Dylan smiled as I stood up and he
straightened.
I picked up the razor on the vanity, ejected the old blade and
fitted a new cartridge. I placed my hands on his shoulders, guiding
the boy forward and into the shower. My desire had cooled somewhat
after I'd seen the damage I'd done to the boy's tender body. At
first I'd entertained thoughts of 'fucking' the boy there in the
shower, but not now. Dylan picked up the soap in his small hand,
pushed me playfully back under the water, and began to soap. He
began with my chest and belly, then turned me around and washed my
back and legs. His supple fingers, slippery with soap, squirmed and
tickled, exploring everywhere, even pushing a wriggling little
finger up into my anus as far as he dared, giggling as I sighed.
Then he turned me around and went to work on my groin, kneeling
between my feet, looking up at me with a greedy knowing smirk as
he playfully tugged on my pubic hair making a rich foamy lather
over my cock and balls. His gentle, but insistent kneading, made
my penis spring to life, hardening quickly until it was sticking
outward pointed towards him, only a few short inches from his
mouth. Silently I willed the boy to take it back into his mouth,
flexing my internal muscles and making it jerk.
Dylan giggled, slapping it playfully with his hand, "You've
gotta behave now. You're too soapy to suck right now, okay". He
smirked as he looked up at me, "Okay he's nice and soapy now. So,
what do I do?" he asked.
I grinned down at the boy, flexing my cock rapidly, hungrily,
trying to tempt the boy. Dylan shook his head emphatically, "When
I done, okay. But you promised,... no more hairs!"
I laughed, "Okay kiddo, you win. You do this very carefully."
The boy grinned teasingly, raising his eyebrows. "Here," I said,
passing the razor to him. He took it inexpertly, holding it like a
pencil. "Now, pull it very carefully across, don't push at it."
Dylan nodded, making his first awkward stroke, beginning just below
my navel and carefully moving down to the side of my penis. There
was two-inch swathe of skin revealed under the soap foam. I didn't
see any hair and neither did Dylan. He looked up at me and grinned
as stray water trickled over his forehead, beaded, and dribbled
onto his shoulders.
"Cool," he observed. Then he lifted the razor and began on the
other side. "This is awesome," he added as more skin was revealed.
Dylan became more confident, making shorter strokes, working in
towards my now throbbing cock, each increasingly deft stroke taking
away soap. After a few more I reached down and took the razor away
from him. He pouted, pretending to be a spoiled brat with a playful
whine, as I washed the collection of dark, curly hair away from the
blade before passing it back to him. He grinned in absolute
delight, pulling my testicles down and getting the razor into the
furrow between my legs, then carefully around the scrotum, then
back up over my penis. I grinned down at the boy, intent on his
work, absorbed totally by his position of control, in his own way
making us equals. He continued, going back over places that he'd
already visited, once, twice, even three times, getting every last
strand, leaving only perfectly smooth hairless skin in his path,
until only a few smears of soap were left. He was finished and he
came back to his feet, pushing his wet darkened hair back and he
came to his tip-toes, leaning forward and kissing me passionately,
hot, wet and very eagerly. He pushed his flat brown belly into my
still rigid cock, grinding his hips vigorously and working his own
now-erect cock against my thigh. "Well?..." he teased, the husky
note suddenly appearing in his strained voice, then added after a
long pause, ".... You wanna do it?"
I shook my head, knowing how sore the boy must feel, but
fascinated by his desire. Just then Kelly walked into the bathroom,
looked at us, then smirked knowingly. "Heh Dad, Mom's on the
phone," he said. "What are you guys doing now?" he asked. "Heh,
Dylan's penis is standing up again, Daddy," he observed
shamelessly, oblivious to the fact that he too was standing there
before us, his naked body concealed by only his underpants.
"Shit!", I laughed, "Of all the dumb times to call," I said,
stepping back from Dylan and out of the shower. "I'll be right
back", I added as I quickly towelled myself dry. Dylan followed me
out of the shower, his little stiff penis bobbing, slapping against
the gentle curve of his lower belly, his immature testicles hanging
loosely below in the delicate folds of his tiny scrotum. He picked
up a towel and began to dry himself with quick energetic movements
as he worked the towel over his narrow back and down his slender
brown legs.
Almost as soon as Dylan straightened up, Kelly smirked,
pointing between my legs, "You look just like Dylan,... and
me,...you look like a little boy, Daddy."
Dylan started to laugh as he looked at my freshly shaved cock,
"He's cute like that, isn't he. You're right Kelly, he looks just
like us. Only his dick is a whole lot bigger and he can 'come' and
neither of us can yet."
Kelly and I both laughed and the two boys followed me out of
the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I picked up the telephone
and the two boys leaped onto the bed, wrestling playfully. I tried
to concentrate on my wife's long-distance phone call but the boys
were an impossible distraction, giggling, squealing, tumbling over
each other like two little puppies.
"...Look, I can't get back this week. I still have a lot of
work to do here.... Max is thinking of stepping down as
President....", she said. I caught most of her words but I turned
to the boys hushing then with my finger as I tried to listen to
what she was saying. Dylan had Kelly pinned on his back and was
tickling him under the ribs furiously. Kelly let out a loud yelp
and finally pushed the older boy back, then scrambled to his feet,
panting with pretended anger. "... I'm not even sure about next
week.... Max is talking about a month,..."
Kelly yelped again, struggling valiantly but still easily
overpowered by Dylan. The two boys writhed around on the bed, bare
buttocks, arms and legs entwined, fingers digging furiously at each
other's slender chests. I looked again, surprised. Somehow Kelly's
underpants had come off. Like Dylan, the younger boy was erect.
Kelly's penis was perhaps just a half-inch shorter than Dylan's,
who was five years older, but it was not a lot smaller, since it
was about as thick as Dylan's penis. I dragged my attention back
to the telephone but continued to watch the boys, entranced by
their beautiful naked bodies, twisting and turning noisily on the
bed, each boy now grabbing for the other's exposed genitals. "....
I'm not sure about,.... call me next week,....I have to fly,...
how's Kelly?"
"He's fine, he's wrestling on the bed with Dylan right now.
Do you want to speak to him?" I said loudly, finally giving Dylan
a playful slap on his bare buttocks. For a few moments both he and
Kelly were quiet. I wondered what my wife would have said if she
knew that the three of us were stark-naked together on the bed and
her nearly-seven-year-old son was engaging in his first 'cock-
fight'.
"I'm flying out to Boston again in an hour, I still have to
pack. Look I have to go, tell Kelly I love him. Bye!" she finished.
"What did Mom want?" Kelly asked, looking at Dylan
suspiciously as he grinned first at me, then at Kelly, his body
tensing, his right hand hovering protectively near his groin, ready
to lunge back to the tickling, grabbing, squeezing attack.
I put the phone down. "I'm not sure. I think she'll be gone
for a month still, at least that's what it sounded like." I grinned
at the two boys, their bare brown bodies exposed, small hard
penises sticking straight up in the air, both boy's testicles
forming taut wrinkled little knots.
"Let's get Daddy, Dylan," Kelly squealed, turning quickly back
to me. I leaped to my feet and Dylan hurtled against me, lifting
the boy up and twisting him away before tossing him back onto the
bed. I followed through, slapping his buttocks with loud, playful
slaps, giving his little penis a quick tug downward. It snapped
back against his belly as he jerked away, his hand flying down to
cover the exposed part. Kelly came into the attack bravely, but I
grabbed him around the waist and flopped him onto his back. He
struggled, shrieking at the top of his lings, begging Dylan to help
him. Dylan was laughing so hard that he could barely save himself.
I forced my son's hands back over his head, holding them both with
one hand, covering his flailing legs with one of mine, then
teasingly walking my fingers down his heaving chest, across his
soft belly and onto his hard penis, "Oh! Look, and what do we have
here,... It's a PENIS," I laughed.
"Daddy,... No!,... You're going to make me pee," the boy
giggled as my fingers squeezed the tiny, but very sensitive tip,
teasing it by rubbing it around and around against the smooth skin
of his lower belly. He wriggled, squirmed and jerked, enjoying
every precious moment of my hand on his cock, until finally, unable
to resist the delicious sensations, sighed and relaxed back onto
the bed. The smile on his small face was a study in absolute bliss
and it frightened the hell out of me. My own cock was rigid, so
hard that it was throbbing, pulsing in time to the pounding in my
ears. I glanced at Dylan, he was sitting back on the pillows,
watching. I swallowed, and pulled away, aware than Kelly's eyes
followed me hungrily, demandingly, insistently. My hand was
shaking, my body seemed to be trembling as I came to my feet
guiltily looking down at the small naked boy lying stretched out
on the bed, his eyes wanting me, penetrating into the depravity of
my mind. I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion, to deny
the urgent desire to return to the boy's side, to finish what I had
started, but my own inhibitions were too strong.
"You guys better get dressed," I mumbled self-consciously,
aware that both boys saw my hard penis, knowing that I was every
bit as excited as they were. I went over to the dresser, opened the
top drawer and extracted a pair of briefs, awkwardly pulling them
on, feeling relief as my cock disappeared from their sight. I
turned back, Dylan and Kelly glanced at each other, sharing a look
of despair, of excitement and desire suddenly, irrevocably crushed.
Dylan came easily to his feet and bent down to pick up his clothes
as Kelly crawled to the end of bed and slowly came to his feet.
The silence was overwhelming as the boys and I shared our
culpability. Kelly lingered as he retrieved his underpants, pulling
them on slowly, Dylan sliding into his clothes as fast as he had
slid out of them. "What are we going to do today?" Dylan asked
changing the subject suddenly.
I looked up from fastening my belt, "Huh? Oh! I,... I haven't
thought about it. What do you guys what to do?" I asked.
"Daddy, you promised we could go see the new exhibit at the
zoo today!" Kelly piped in as he finally stood up, his boy-genitals
now safely concealed in his underpants.
"I guess. What do you want to Dylan?" I asked.
Dylan grinned, "The zoo would be great."
Kelly grinned and ran out of the room to get his clothes, his
rampart sexual urge temporarily suspended. Dylan watched him go,
then turned back, "He's sexy!" he observed quietly.
Chapter 8.
I carried the tray downstairs, preceded by Dylan who ran ahead
with Kelly. The two boys were laughing and shouting, as they took
the stairs two at a time. Then from about halfway up the first
flight, Dylan leaped the rest of the way, whooping at the top of
his lungs as he pivoted around the newel-post at the bottom of the
stairs. Kelly followed from two steps lower. I don't remember
having ever seen Kelly so boisterous. While he wasn't what you'd
have called a quiet kid, he usually wasn't this noisy. It was as
if the two boys fed on each other, challenging, supporting, evoking
a restlessness that was ignited by their sexual urges, even though
the episode in the bedroom was now just a distant memory for both
of them. There was, however, a pleasant coolness in my groin, a
heightened awareness of the sensitivity of my freshly shaved skin
that I relished. As I came into the kitchen I found that the boys
had finally quietened down a bit, Kelly sitting on the floor
putting on his sneakers, his small fingers hurrying with the laces.
I watched them run out into the yard, hearing them yelling loudly
as I placed the dishes in the washer, quickly tidied up the kitchen
and went outside myself. The boys were shooting hoops, or at least
Dylan was, Kelly was hitting the hoop instead.
"Heh guys," I called as I came up, "You want to go in the
Corvette or the Jeep?"
"The Corvette," they both answered at once.
I laughed, opening the garage door and standing back to avoid
being trampled by two excited boys. "So who's riding in the
middle?"
The boys exchanged glances, then pointed at each other, "He
is!", they said in unison.
I laughed, "Well, I think Dylan did last time. Your turn
Kelly."
"Ohhhh!" he said, pretending to be upset but unable to help
himself, finally broke into a grin, "Okay,... but he has to next
time."
Dylan grinned, "If I squeeze over, maybe we can both fit in
the seat," he suggested.
I nodded and Dylan followed my son into the passenger's side.
It was a squeeze but I discovered that it is possible to fit two
boys in a Corvette seat. I got in, started the engine and carefully
reversed out, hitting the remote control button as I went so that
the door closed after us. I turned into a responsible adult, making
Dylan buckle his seat-belt around both of them. They were a 'pair',
giggling and chattering excitedly the entire way to the zoo. Once
we'd parked the car, the two boys took off again, their energy
seemed boundless, almost frenetic as they raced around. I couldn't
help but laugh when I theorized that they were burning off their
libidos. The line that had formed for the next exhibit was already
long and we decided that we'd come again when it wasn't as busy.
The boys took off again, Dylan leading the way, with Kelly in close
pursuit. I followed the boys up toward the elephant house. I was
still some distance away when they came charging back, both boys
wearing the biggest grins I'd ever seen.
"Heh Dad,... it was 'awesome'," Kelly yelled as he came up to
me, "You should have seen it," he added between fits of laughter.
"Seen what?" I asked patiently, fascinated by the boy's
exuberance, his imitation of the older boy who was laughing as
well, wondering what on earth they could have seen to make them
this excited.
"The elephant! You wouldn't have believed it!" he shrieked,
still laughing.
"Believed what?" I asked.
"The elephant,... he did pee-pee,... you should have seen how
big his penis was? It was enormous," Kelly grinned, his eyes
watering from his prolonged laughing, "It was this big," he added
holding his arms wide, his hands as far apart as he could get them.
"Wasn't it Dylan?"
Dylan nodded amid peals of laughter, "It kind of slid out of
him until it was huge. It was a monster-dick. When he peed,... it
was like a hose got turned on full pelt,... he just kept on doing
it. It was,... his dick was huge."
I laughed, pulling Dylan and then Kelly to me for a brief,
playful hug, feeling the momentary pressure and warmth of their
slender young bodies, enjoying the close contact with each of them.
Then the two boys took off again, like a team, usually with Dylan
in the lead, but sometimes the younger boy. I followed them around
the zoo as they 'terrorized' the animals, sometimes catching up to
them, sometimes watching from a distance. They were irresistible,
two beautiful young boys full of life and energy. Despite the five-
year difference in ages the two boys were fast becoming best-
friends, a fact that was patently obvious in their enjoyment of
life and of each other. But what I liked the most was the fact that
they always can hurtling back to me with stories of the animals
they had discovered. They hugged me ferociously like the bears they
had visited, and I knew that they depended on me, that for each boy
I was the center of his life.
That morning at the zoo is one of my most precious memories,
I began to imagine Dylan as my son, and I saw the two boys almost
as brothers.
We had to back-track because we missed the island with the
monkeys. I sat down at a seat on the other side of the 'lagoon',
watching the antics of two 'monkeys', my two boys, as they imitated
with remarkable accuracy, the antics of the real monkeys. I was
glad of the rest, enjoying the last cool freshness of the morning
as it gradually became hotter. Below the planked walkway fat golden
carp swam lazily and I watched them move easily, gracefully through
the weeds. I looked up suddenly as the warmth of the sunlight was
blocked. Dylan had approached silently, standing barely a foot away
from me.
"Hi monkey!" I teased.
The boy returned a grin and sat down next to me, his bare leg
touching mine, There was a shock at the contact of his skin against
mine, the flow of warmth between us. Dylan glanced around, then
assured of his privacy, looked downward pausing, then said quietly,
"I love you."
"Yeah, I know," I said, "It's mutual,... but I've always been
attracted to monkeys you see."
The boy giggled, then did a crude, but very effective
imitation of a monkey. "Hmmm,... Can I ask you a,... kind of
personal question?" he said hesitantly.
"Huh? I think I've heard that before somewhere?" I teased.
Dylan smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, his blue eyes
sparkling. "Of course you can,... you know you can."
"Well,... I know we love each other,... and well we do
stuff,...together,... that people do when they love each other,..."
he began awkwardly. I nodded reassuringly. Dylan thought for a
moment, ".... Well they do that stuff,... like mostly after they
get married,... don't they?" I nodded again, wondering where the
boy was headed. "Only we're not,... But you are married to Kelly's
mom,..."
He stopped, brushing his unruly golden-blond hair back from
his forehead, uncertain of what the question was any longer. He
thought for a moment or two, "Do you,... well do you do stuff,...
with her too?" he blurted out.
I smiled at the boy, "No,... well not for a long time,...
since, well from,... I don't know when. I still love her, Dylan,...
but it's not the same as I love you."
"But you did stuff,... with her before that? You had to,... I
mean to make Kelly and all,...? he continued nervously.
I nodded, "Huh huh. It's been a few years," I said honestly.
"Did you,... I know I'm just a kid,...but,... Did you like it
better,... with her?" Dylan blurted out, his voice strained,
demanding an answer.
I was silent, trying to find the words, wanting to tell Dylan
that the happiness of only a single day with him was the only real
happiness I'd ever known. "Dylan, I love you,... I love what we do.
It isn't just that it feels better, what we do together, it's
special, you're special to me in a way that Kelly's mom, any woman,
could never be."
The boy was quiet for a long while, holding his head between
his hands, his knees supporting his elbows as he leaned forward,
looking aimlessly, but very thoughtfully out to the 'monkey
island'. "What happens now?" he asked. The nervous tremble in his
voice was marked, suddenly he seemed very fragile, so young, too
young for the kinds of emotional demands that our relationship had
placed upon him.
"I don't know Dylan,... I don't,... I wish I did,... I really
want to have the answer. But I don't," I answered gently. I glanced
around, looking for my son. "Where's Kelly gone off to?" I asked.
Dylan looked up, glanced around, then pointed over to the red
pandas. The boy's eyes were so much stronger than mine, but I looked
in the same direction and finally spotted the younger boy. "You
have good eyes, kiddo," I said. The boy shrugged, his unanswered
question gnawing at him, insistent in his mind.
"I love you, Alex,... I don't want to leave you, ever,... I
don't want her to come back,... I.... I don't know,... I,... I get
scared when I think about it." Dylan choked back a rising sob, but
a tear rolled down the boy's smooth brown cheek, "I,... don't
know,... what to do,... I,... I,... love you,... and,... and,..."
He started to sob, tears welling in his pale-blue eyes, then the
dam burst and the boy shuddered involuntarily, the single tear
becoming many as he lost control.
I pulled the boy towards me, holding him tightly, my fingers
caressing his silky-soft hair, "I know. I know. I love you too. I
love you too," I whispered in his ear soothingly. I could feel his
slender body trembling uncontrollably, his face pressed hard into
my chest shamefully, the moistness of his tears on my shirt. He
sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, then reached
down, his small fingers grasping and closing on my fingers. "I love
you Dylan," I said with absolute finality, "I love you very much.
I don't know what will happen,... but it'll be okay,... I promise
you it'll be okay."
The boy looked up, his cheeks now wet, his eyes reddened, he
swallowed, sniffing, holding back tears. "I,... I,... love you
too,... but,..."
I smiled, lovingly stroking the back of the boy's hand, tiny
veins rippling under the soft skin, "Trust me Dylan,... I
promise,..."
Dylan nodded and slowly a small smile formed. He rubbed at his
eyes, wiping tears away bravely. "I,... I made your shirt all wet,"
he observed, "Pretty dumb, huh?"
"No Dylan, I understand,..." I answered. We both looked over
to where Kelly had been. My son had moved over the other side of
the enclosure. "He loves the pandas, he always has, ever since he
was a baby," I said. "Sometimes I think he should have been one."
Dylan smiled, "He's a lucky kid. I wish you were my dad," he
said wistfully.
I looked back at the boy. His eyes were serious, attentive,
still reddened. "I wish you were my son, Dylan." In that instant I
knew that I would do something, anything, whatever it required to
keep Dylan. That knowledge scared me. I changed the topic quickly.
"What happened last night? How did your mom find out?" I asked.
Dylan looked down guiltily, realizing that it might have
turned out quite differently as he said, "When I came in she asked
me if I had a good time. I said that I had the best time I'd ever
had. I told her about riding the horses and swimming, and the fun
in the car. I guess I was acting weird but I was really happy and
I kept on talking about you. Then when I was having a snack in the
kitchen she asked me if I liked you a lot. She kind of asked in
this strange way, like she thought it was wrong of me to like you
so much. I told her that I liked you more than anyone else in the
whole world. I thought that was all because she was really quiet
for a long while, then just as I got up to go to bed,...she,..."
The boy was suddenly quiet, remembering the fear, the shock, the
turmoil that had overwhelmed him. "She asked me if I,... if we,...
had sex."
I placed my hand on the boy's thigh, my fingers stroking the
soft brown skin, downward to his small knee, then back up to the
edge of his shorts, gently caressing him, comforting him, hoping
that no one was watching.
"I didn't know what to say, Alex. It was like she already knew.
She wasn't angry, not really, but I knew she wasn't happy. I guess
my silence sort of answered the question, she just kept on looking
at me, then I started to blush and I felt so hot all over. I started
to panic because I could tell from how she was looking at me that
she knew. Then she said it again, but it wasn't a question
anymore,... like,... like we had sex didn't we, or something like
that. Alex, I tried to say no but all I could do was shake my head
and I tried to look away. She knew I was lying and I've never lied
to her before. She sort of shrugged and shook her head like she was
really disappointed in me, then she told me to go up to bed and
we'd discuss it in the morning."
Dylan looked up at me for support. He breathed out, a long
drawn-out sigh from deep inside him. "So I went to my room. I was
really scared and I felt so bad, like I'd done something dirty and
terrible with you. I got into bed and tried to go to sleep but I
was so worried, all I could think of was you, that I'd gotten you
into trouble. It was a lot later, maybe about an hour, when I
suddenly got the idea that I should call and tell you what happened.
I went out into the living room as quietly as I could. I thought
Mom was in bed, but she wasn't. The lights were out and she was
sitting in the dark. I knew she'd been crying and I felt really
ashamed. I went over to her and said I was sorry. I started crying,
I haven't cried for a long while, but I couldn't help it. Everything
seemed so screwed up, I told Mom I wished I was dead, I really
wanted to kill myself. She asked me to sit down and then we started
to talk. We talked until after midnight, about how I felt about
you, about what I,... we had done,... about everything.... Well
almost everything,... I didn't tell her about Kelly. Mom wasn't
angry, she was sort of understanding, kind of like,... like she
already knew I was gay before,... well."
Dylan looked up. The boy smiled, shifting his hand so that it
brushed against mine, stopped so that his small fingers locked
between my fingers. He tilted his head up looking at the sky, as
blue as his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he
turned back to me. "She said it was okay, Alex,... if you loved
me,... if I loved you,... I was old enough to decide,... for
myself,... If I,... we wanted to,... have sex and all that,... then
she wouldn't stop us."
I nodded, "Your mom is a wonderful person. Most grown-ups
could never understand the feelings that you and I have for each
other. They'd be very angry at us, even at your mom."
"But,... well it's none of their business. My mom's right, I
know she is. I know I love you, even though it's only been a little
while. And you love me too. So they're wrong!" the boy said
emphatically.
We looked up as Kelly ambled up and stood before us, his
playful grin suddenly appearing as he announced, "I know what you
two guys have been talking about. Making babies!" Then, in a
quieter, teasing voice, barely more than a whisper, he added,
"Fucking!"
Dylan and I both laughed as we tried to grab him. I missed but
Dylan connected with Kelly's wrist, pulling him down onto us, onto
the seat. I grabbed my son around the waist, restraining him while
Dylan proceeded to tickle him furiously. Dylan and I were laughing
and Kelly was giggling hysterically, writhing as he tried to
escape, as an old man and his wife walked down the path and turned
onto the planked walkway that followed the edge of the 'lagoon'. I
heard the woman say, "Those two certainly are very handsome boys
aren't they John", as she passed. I nodded and smiled at her, and
playfully cuffed Dylan. He responded by turning his tickles to me
and ganging up with Kelly. Twelve-year-old boys can be so fickle!
In the middle of the struggle, amidst cries and squeals of
joy, Kelly reached down, grabbing for Dylan's penis and testicles.
The older boy yelped, not in pain but in surprise and turned his
attack back to Kelly. I couldn't stop laughing, finally I managed
to break in, "That's enough, you guys. Not in public, okay? Heh,
who's hungry."
It was a little after twelve o'clock and even though the boys
had eaten breakfast only a few hours earlier, it was no shock to
me that they answered as one. "Yeah!" Growing boys, especially boys
as active as mine, get hungry fast. I followed the boys again as
they took off towards the concession stands and the zoo restaurant.
By the time I'd arrived they had already decided what they wanted
so I gave Dylan ten dollars and went over to a table in the shade.
Someone had left a Sunday paper lying there, actually about half
the Sunday paper. The news and sports sections had disappeared, as
had the advertising magazines of the department stores, the ones
that feature the models wearing the season's fashions, the one's
that occasionally have pictures of boys as beautiful as my two. I
browsed through what was left of the paper. A few minutes later the
boys came back, each carrying a coke and two hot dogs. I watched
them eat as I sipped the coffee Dylan had brought back for me. I
didn't know where they put all the food. They were both slender
boys, there probably wasn't a spare pound of fat between them, even
Kelly was fast shedding his baby fat and growing into a lean, lithe
boy like Dylan.
The boys talked incessantly, slurping their cokes noisily as
I tried to concentrate on reading the paper. When I got to the
Travel Section I stopped. The story on the second page featured an
area in western Kentucky/Tennessee called the Land Between the
Lakes. A picture of a boy about Dylan's age diving into the water
from a houseboat caught my attention. With Dylan sitting not much
more than a foot away the picture no longer drew the same interest
from me that it would have only a few days earlier. I don't know
how the idea came to me, it just occurred as I scanned the article.
It formed inside me until I knew. "Heh, You guys," I grinned as I
stood up, "Behave for a few minutes, okay? I've got to make a phone
call." I tool the paper and went over to the public phone on the
other side of the restaurant.
It took a minute or less to dial the number on my credit card,
then I was through. "Kentucky Lake Houseboats", a southern-sounding
male voice drawled.
"Hi!" I said, "I calling about a rental. I wonder if you've
got anything available?"
"Nah, nothin', everythings out, bin booked solid for a
month,..." the voice replied. There was short interruption, voices
in the background, words indistinguishable through the phone half-
covered by a hand. The voice came back, "Sorry,... well we got one,
a cancellation it seems. It's the honeymooner!"
"Huh? The what?" I asked uncertainly.
"The honeymooner! It's a houseboat with a single bedroom. Got
a king-size bed. We get a lot of honeymooners in Spring. Was booked,
but they called yesterday, must have killed the wedding I s'pose.
Great boat for a couple?" the man said.
"It's for me and my two boys," I answered. "Anything else?" I
asked, as my mind raced ahead.
"Nah, nothing available anywhere on the lakes. Busy time this,
last few weeks of school holidays 'n all. There's a couch that makes
up a bed?" the voice suggested.
"Hmmm, I don't know. They had their hearts set on bunks," I
lied acutely aware of my heart leaping.
"Yeah." I heard voices in the background then a click as
another voice came on. "Hi, I'm Leo, manager here. We can do you a
great rate on the honeymooner, if you was interested. Normally
she's out at six hundred dollars plus gas for the week. We can do
four hundred if you want because we have the deposit. You
interested?"
"That sounds okay, but,... well my boys are a bit of
problem,... they did want bunks,..." I said with deliberate
hesitation.
"Yeah. Well how long would it be for?" the manager asked,
"Maybe we could get you on another boat next week."
"Well I was thinking about three weeks. 'till school starts."
I said, enjoying my game.
"Three fifty a week, for three weeks on the honeymooner?" the
manager said, then added, "Plus gas, okay? You want linen it's an
extra thirty a week."
"Sounds good. Let me check with the boys, okay. I'll call you
back in a bit."
"Okay. Don't let it go too long. Busy time this. Bye!" the
voice said before the phone clicked.
I put the phone down and looked over at the two boys. The
honeymooner sounded exactly like what I needed. Their lunches
finished they were looking at the comics section of the paper. I
smiled and went back over to them. Dylan looked up, noticed my smile
and raised his eyebrows. "What's up?" Kelly asked.
"Up? Hmmm! I don't know. I might have a surprise for you two
boys. It depends on Dylan's mom. Come on guys. Let's get going," I
said, wrapping up the boys' cups and napkins with my coffee cup.
"My mom? Why?" Dylan asked, "We're we going?"
"To your place", I replied, leading the way out of the
restaurant seating area. We went back to the car and the boys
crowded into the front seat. It took about forty minutes to get out
of the zoo and drive to Dylan's house. Her Volkswagen convertible
was parked in the drive and we got out.
Before we got to the door Diane Brady was there. I followed
Dylan into his house for the first time. The living room was nicely
furnished, two couches and a coffee table in front of a fireplace.
A piano was against the wall. Somehow I hadn't thought of Dylan
playing the piano but I knew instinctively that it was his. Within
seconds, even before I sat down with his mother, Dylan and Kelly
disappeared down the hall and into the boy's bedroom. We looked at
each other silently. I wondered whether she resented me, it was
impossible to tell, her face gave nothing away.
"Diane,..." I began, "I,... well I,..."
Diane smiled and sighed, shaking her head slightly, "I should
have known shouldn't I,... at lunch, when you told me how fond you
were of Dylan,... when I realized how much Dylan liked you.
He's,... well,... he's a lucky boy in some ways."
"We're both lucky. I do love him you know,... I love him very
much," I added.
"Yes, I think I knew that when we had lunch. I think I've
always known,... that he was,... gay. He is gay isn't it?... He's
like other boys in lots of ways but,... he's different too. He's
very affectionate,... for a boy."
I nodded, "Dylan's a remarkable kid," I said honestly. "He's
caring and sensitive. He's everything he should be and more, much,
much more."
Diane looked down at the magazines on the coffee table, "His
father was gay,... I've never told Dylan this,... but he left us
after he met someone he worked with. Dylan's a lot like his
father...." I nodded understandingly. "I guess I shouldn't be too
surprised that Dylan is,... well sexually active with you. It's,...
well it's only natural for him isn't it. It's just that he's still
so young. He's only just turned twelve, and he's quite a bit smaller
than normal for his age."
"Diane,... I'm very careful with him," I said gently, then
added, "You have to believe that I would never do anything to hurt
him."
"Well, yes,... but for a boy, doing those things,... having
sex,... it's not easy for him, is it?" Diane asked, the stress in
her voice clearly revealing her worries.
"You're right,... it's not easy. It can be quite painful,...
at first,.... until he gets,... used to it. Diane,... I don't know
how to say this,... except if Dylan was my son,... I'd be scared
stiff..."
She wiped at her eyes and breathed out, "I,... I get so worried
thinking about him,... with Aids and all,... if he,... well,... He
said,... he said you didn't use a condom,... he could die,..." she
choked back a cry.
"You have to trust me to do the right thing. I love Dylan, I
love him a great deal,... I'd never do anything to hurt him,...
never. Dylan and I have to trust each other,... if he knows
love,...and we're not promiscuous,... he'll be okay."
"Love?" Diane said weakly, "God I hope so! He's so fond of
you,... I've never known him to be this happy, just the last week
even. He,... he needs you, Alex,..."
"Dylan needs time, Diane. He needs time to adjust and get
used to what it means to be gay. I need to spend time with him, I
need to love him and help him and be with him. I want to get to
know him better."
"Yes, I s'pose. I know you do. It's what I expected,... I think
when I called you this morning. I know that the two of you need
time together," Diane said quietly.
"I want to take Dylan away with me,... for a holiday, Diane.
For three weeks, until school starts," I said simply. "I know it's
a long while,... but once he starts back at school we won't have
much time."
"Three weeks,... it is a long while,... I know you'll,... have
sex with him,... but it's,... such a long time. I guess, but take
him where?" she asked.
I felt my heart leap. Unless I was mistaken Dylan's mother had
just agreed. "To the Land Between the Lakes, in Kentucky,... I want
to rent a houseboat. I'd like to take him down there this
afternoon."
"Oh! I,... Does Dylan know?" she asked uncertainly.
I shook my head, "I'm asking you first. I don't want to get
his hopes up. If you say yes, I want to surprise him."
"A honeymoon?" she said, "It is isn't it,... in a way? I guess
so," she said, shaking her head resignedly, "What about your son,
Kelly?"
I nodded, "Kelly will come too. The boys are getting to be
best friends. I want Kelly to understand what Dylan and I feel for
each other before he's too old."
"I guess,... there really isn't much difference between a
bedroom in your house or on a houseboat is there?" She smiled and
shrugged, "I'd hoped that Dylan would just spend time with you
around here, well for a year at least, until he understands more.
I guess so, go and tell him so he can pack. His room's a bit of a
mess, he's supposed to clean it up before tonight, but tell it's
okay to leave."
I stood up wanting to thank her but I knew that any words would
be cheap, unable to cover my gratitude to her, to compensate for
the loss she felt. I smiled and she smiled back, resigned but
somehow knowing that she'd made the right decision for her son. I
left the room and walked down the hall. The boys were lying on the
floor in Dylan's bedroom playing with model cars. The room was a
typical twelve-year-old boy's bedroom, complete with the
paraphernalia of youth, model cars, trains, boats and planes,
trophies mostly for swimming, an assemblage of books and games and
everything a boy accumulates. It was mostly a mess! The single bed
was unmade, and it was funny to think that Dylan had slept there
only hours before, that he'd dreamed there, that he'd masturbated
there while he pretended he was with me. The door to the closet was
half-open, a few clothes were scattered on the floor. There was a
slight, but distinct odor of boy, the sweet smell of Dylan, his
twelve years spent mostly in this room.
The two boys looked so innocent lying there together, pushing
their small plastic vehicles around, making growling sounds,
squealing sounds, simulating a car chase at high speed. Dylan
twisted over onto his back and looked up at me, "Well, what did you
and my mom talk about?" he asked.
"It's a surprise. Come on let's get you packed," I teased
"Packed? Where am I going? Am I going to stay at your place?
Can I, please, go on say yes, please say yes, please?" The words
tumbled out as Dylan leaped to his feet, excitement flashing across
his face.
I shook my head watching as the boy's face registered first
shock, then as his excitement deflated I started to laugh, "You're
not staying at my house, Dylan. You're going on a holiday though.
But where?... Now that's a surprise!"
The excitement came back in a flash, doubling as the boy let
out a long "Yeahhh!", and then tripling until I thought Dylan was
about to lose it. He grinned, turned to Kelly and yelled "Yeahhhh!"
again at the top of his voice.
I shook my head, "Well Dylan, I'm glad you're excited, but we
have to you get packed. We have a long way to drive."
"We're leaving today?" he asked.
"In about,... an hour,..."I said, looking at my watch. "Now
we need a bag, you got something like that somewhere in this mess?"
The boy grinned sheepishly, "It is kinda, isn't it? I didn't
expect you or Kelly, I gotta clean it up before we leave,... I
promised Mom," he said going over to the closet and extracting a
large gym bag from the chaos inside.
"That's okay, your mom said to leave it." I went over to the
boy's chest of drawers. "I guess you're going to need a few pairs
of underpants and socks," I prompted. Dylan joined me and we filled
the bag in under five minutes, but then a twelve-year-old boy
doesn't need that much on a houseboat besides a swimming costume,
a couple of pairs of shorts and a few shirts. I went out to the car
with Kelly and waited. I knew that Dylan and his mom would need to
talk for a while. After about ten minutes they came out onto the
porch together. The boy hugged his mother and I watched as she
brushed a tear away. He waved as he trotted down the driveway and
slid into the passenger seat next to Kelly.
Then it was home to my house and I called and confirmed a
booking for the honeymooner for three wonderful weeks, wrote
directions, gave them my credit card number and hung up. Then there
was a frantic forty minutes of packing clothes, food, games,
fishing equipment, and anything else that conceivably could be
useful on a three-week holiday with two boys on a houseboat. It was
just after 1.30 pm. when we finished loading the Jeep and I pulled
out onto the street. I had a very long drive ahead of me.
I put an Everly Brothers tape in and settled back. The two
boys were in the back seat, carrying on like two brothers, teasing,
squabbling, playing games, chattering away. It wasn't until we were
on the road for about forty minutes that Dylan suddenly looked up,
twisted around and began to search in the back of the Jeep. A few
seconds passed, then "Oh Shit!" he said loudly, his voice unusually
angry.
"Huh?" I said.
"Damn! I left my bag in the Corvette, behind the seat,... It
isn't here at all."
I laughed. "Well what's so funny? I don't have any clothes,"
Dylan retorted.
"No worries kiddo. I bet that isn't the only thing we forgot.
We did leave in kind of a hurry. We can buy you some more stuff....
In fact I think I know just the place," I answered.
I did, about another thirty miles or so down the road there
is one of those manufacturer outlet malls that are purported to be
cheaper. I pulled off the freeway and parked the car in front of
Bugle Boy. The three of us went in and we were served by a guy who
was obviously a little weird. He looked Dylan up and down and
smiled, "Well, he's a twelve,... a nice slim twelve. He might fit
into a ten but he'll grow out of it too fast,... won't he? We have
some nice clothes over there,... very much in fashion too." The
assistant lead the way down through the aisles of clothing. Dylan
looked up at me uncertainly. This was the first 'gay' I think he'd
ever seen. I shrugged, the boy smirked.
It was a good time to shop, with summer ending, fall clothes
were already on the racks, the previous season's clothes were
heavily discounted. I picked out one black and one white tee shirt
and matching cotton shorts, the kind with elastic waists and loose
legs, for Dylan to 'bum' around in. He went over to the change room
to try them on and I browsed around looking for something a little
dressier. Kelly meandered off browsing through the aisles. After a
few minutes Dylan came back. He was dressed entirely in white. The
boy looked even more beautiful, the white emphasizing his tanned
skin, picking up his golden-blond hair and giving him a purity, an
innocence that was becoming. He was an angel! He grinned cheekily.
The clothes made him look younger, thiner than he already was. He
turned around, the shorts cutting into the boy's crack slightly and
showing the rounded halves of his cheeks. "Pretty sexy!" I
observed.
"Can I have them? Please?" he asked. I nodded and Dylan
stepped forward and gave me a quick hug.
"Go put the black ones on," I laughed.
Dylan hurried off and came back after a few minutes. The
change in the boy was remarkable. No longer an angel, his blond
hair seemed to glisten like gold in a jewelry store, he radiated
an aura that was at once sensual and intense. He looked like a boy
prostitute working the streets around 42nd Street in New York City.
The boy sensed the change in himself and he smiled shyly, "Pretty
sexy too, huh?" He looked at me uncertainly, "Can I have these too?"
I nodded, glancing around to see if anyone could hear us, "You
wear those around me and you know what's going to happen?"
Dylan blushed slightly, stepped forward and said quietly, "I'm
gonna get fucked?" I grinned at the boy and nodded. Dylan shrugged,
"Okay!" he teased playfully, "When?"
I stifled a laugh and handed the boy the pair of denim shorts
and shirt I'd picked up, "You like these too?" The boy looked
uncertainly at the shirt. I smiled, "Okay, it's your turn to pick
something out that you like,... only there's one rule,... no long
sleeves, okay." The boy grinned and looked over at a rack of clothes
that had first caught his attention. "Sure, what ever you want," I
added. I followed him over and he selected a stripped knit shirt
to go with the shorts I'd picked. "Yeah! You're right, I like it
better too. Go try them on too Dylan," I said.
Dylan headed back over to the change area and I ambled over
towards Kelly. He was looking at the fall fashions. This would be
the first year I could buy his clothes in the boys' department and
the range of clothes was a lot bigger than in the young boys'
section.
"Hi Daddy," he smiled as I approached, "Dylan looks great, I
love the black ones.... These are nice, aren't they?" he said
pointing to a pair of sweat pants and top. The display model was
bright yellow and edged with purple trim, one-inch wide stripes
down the legs and arms, like something a race car driver would wear.
They were expensive at thirty five dollars apiece but the inside
of the material was soft and fuzzy and very warm, the kind of thing
that felt wonderful on bare young bodies. He smiled a smile that
was impossible to resist. I picked up one for Kelly, size seven,
and other for Dylan, size twelve, both yellow, both very sexy. I
saw Dylan coming out of the change room and I went back over to
him. He looked great in the clothes we'd selected. I picked up two
more pairs of black and white shorts and two tee shirts as Dylan
went back into the change room to get dressed and collect the
clothes he'd left there. Almost as soon as Dylan came back out Kelly
came over to us wearing a mischevious grin. "You guys have to come
with me. He needs undies too doesn't he Dad? I found some that are
the same as the ones you wear."
I nodded and followed my son towards the back of the store.
There was a couple of stands of deeply discounted clothes, stuff
that never sold, one was underwear. Actually bikini-briefs would
be more accurate. Not the kind of thing that parents bought for
their sons except maybe in California. They were in packages of
three, brightly colored, sometimes neon, sometimes stripes or
patterns. They were a stark contrast to the conservative, hide-it-
all design of Jockeys. The store assistant wandered up, "They're
on special,... you get three pair in the box for five dollars, but
if you buy six or more it's only three dollars." I nodded. The store
assistant smiled sweetly, too sweetly and he looked at Dylan
appraisingly. "He's quite slender isn't he?... about a 22 or 23
inch waist,..." He turned to Kelly, "and the little one is about a
20. They're pretty stretchy so the size really isn't all that
important anyway. These boys could probably even wear the same
size."
"Thanks," I said then looked at the two boys, "You guys pick
out some you want, say six pairs each, okay?" Dylan and Kelly
grinned at each other and went to work, scrambling through the
assorted collection of little plastic boxes to find what they
wanted. The store assistant looked on with obvious interest, I
could feel his eyes feasting on Dylan, almost smelling the man's
arousal. For a few seconds I tolerated his invasion and then I
couldn't stand it any longer, "Let's go ring this other stuff up.
The boys will be finished here in a bit."
"Oh!" the assistant said, suddenly startled out of his dream,
"Yes of course," he added and lead the way back to the check-out.
The total bill with tax and three pairs of socks came to a penny
over $170. With the clothes in two large plastic bags, we headed
back the car, the store assistant giving Dylan a long hungry look
as we went past the window.
Back on the freeway the boys resumed their games and chatter
and I sat back watching the miles tick past on the odometer. After
a while they played one of Kelly's computer games, then they
engaged in a squabble about who'd taken a turn out of sequence,
then more computer games, then it was quiet. Too quiet, far too
quiet, and I glanced up in the rear-vision mirror. I couldn't see
much unless I strained my neck upwards, changing the angle of view,
I guess I expected to find that the boys had finally dozed off.
They hadn't. I stifled a laugh and watched closely. Kelly was in
the act of taking his shorts off, lifting his hips up off the seat
and tugging them downward. Dylan was already naked from the waist
down, his shorts and underpants discarded somewhere on the floor
of the Jeep, even his socks and shoes had disappeared. He was
stroking his erect penis with his right hand, slowly, deliberately,
up and down, his fingers pressing gently into the underside, his
thumb looped around it. Then Kelly's shorts and underpants were at
his knees, pushed hastily down his little legs and past his feet.
His hand went to his genitals. Like Dylan, his penis was erect too,
but his hand moved uncertainly, imitating the older boy sitting
next to him. He trembled slightly as the hard little penis reacted,
tingled, throbbed, sending a thrill down his spine that made him
gasp. Dylan whispered something in my son's ear and the two boys
smiled. Then Dylan reached over, his hand gently closing around the
almost-seven-year-old boy's penis, moving rhythmically along the
short hard shaft. After a few moments Kelly's small hand slipped
downward, then onto Dylan's thigh, then hesitantly caressed the
older boy's penis. They smiled at each other, ready to giggle, each
boy quivering with excitement as they pleasured each other, as
Kelly's confidence grew his hand movements became more controlled,
rubbing carefully with short strokes. It was beautiful, sweet and
gentle, not demanding. It was innocent exploration, the two boys
giving freely, shamelessly engaging in a mutual game that made
their young bodies glow with life and happiness.
I don't know how long I watched them, occassional glimpses of
bare brown legs and thighs, legs slightly apart, small brown arms
moving, little cocks standing up hard and pround, held tightly in
small hands. By now the freeway was relatively deserted, we were
miles from anywhere, just woods and fields of corn that stretched
away into the distance, small farmhouses and barns dotted the
horizon. It would have been difficult for anyone to see into the
back seat of the Jeep, except for a truck driver, and it was Sunday
afternoon so there very few trucks. I think that the boys may have
known that I realized what they were doing. I didn't care, it seemed
very natural. It was part of becoming closer and as the time passed
I wondered how many older brothers had initiated their younger
brother, or, how many best friends.
It went on and on, sometimes sharing, sometimes by themselves,
exploring, examining, comparing. I was fascinated by the fact that
Dylan's penis wasn't more than half-an-inch longer than Kelly's,
even a bit thiner because Kelly's penis was wedge-shaped, his
little balls just a little bit larger. Dylan's penis was more like
mine than my own son's penis was. Unable to climax, to achieve the
relief from orgasm, the boys' game was endless. On one occassion I
glanced up to the mirror and I saw Dylan's face tighten, his teeth
clench momentarily, a small but intense convulsion that marked the
swift passage of an immature orgasm. But Kelly was still too young
to have a build-up phase, for him it was just fun and nice feelings
that went on and on. They did it for more than forty miles, their
healthy young cocks staying rigid the whole way.
As we approached the next large town (city) I finally had to
laugh, "Okay you guys back there, I think it's time to pull the
pants up for a while. We're coming into Louisville now."
The boys started to giggle. "See I told you he knew, Kelly.
He's been watching us in the mirror since we started," Dylan said
unashamedly. I watched as Kelly blushed and Dylan smirked cheekily,
meeting my eyes in the mirror. "Can we wear our new undies?" he
asked.
I tilted the mirror down slightly, aiming back towards the
boys, getting a complete view of their bare brown legs, of the pale
flesh of their upper thighs and groins, of their short penises
still erect. "So who's got the biggest one?" I teased.
The boys giggled. Dylan answered, "You have!" he said, "Then
me!" He yelped as Kelly's hand jerked sharply, a playful tug on the
older boy's penis, squeezing as he pulled back, "Yyyouch, heh make
him stop,... that hurts," he squealed, amid a flurry of giggles as
he struck back at Kelly. "Okay,... okay,... so Kelly's dick is
fatter than mine,... okay!" he cried as Kelly's grip tightened.
"Okay guys," I laughed, "Quieten down and get some clothes on
back there. Yeah Dylan of course you can put your new underpants
on." I watched as he scrambled around in the seat, getting a
fabulous view of his small buttocks as he leaned over the back of
the seat and rifled through the plastic bags. He turned back and
handed one little plastic box to Kelly, keeping another for
himself. I looked away, back to the road as we neared an
interchange, shaking my head in loving exasperation. I loved him,
I loved them both. When I looked into the mirror again the boys had
their new briefs on, brightly colored, small rounded bulges in the
soft cloth, more pale, untanned skin showing than would be
considered decent by any responsible parent. Then a minute later
the boys were fully dressed again and sitting side by side
engrossed in the computer game, both so innocuous and virtuous that
it was almost impossible to imagine them any other way. Their
awareness of their sexuality seemed only a momentary lapse from the
innocence of youth as the sensual aspect of their bodies took
control, then quickly relinquished or suppressed until the next,
almost spontaneous ignition occurred. They were, I realized, that
afternoon, both incredibly sexy boys though their sexual desires
were still developing, coming and going almost without warning.
We stopped in a town called Henderson for dinner. It was a bit
early but the boys were hungry again and after Henderson there
wasn't much until we arrived. The gas tank on the Jeep was just
about empty so I filled up first then went searching. First choice
from the back seat was for pizza and I had every intention of
meeting it. It took a while to find a restaurant that did a bit
more than cardboard with sauce but we finally did. Feeding the two
boys was an experience in and of itself. They chattered, gulped,
chewed noisily, chattered and gulped some more. They were happy and
excited, but then, so was I, happier than I had ever been.
Back in the car the boys slowly quietened down, the long day,
the excitement, finally taking its toll. They didn't sleep, though
I wouldn't have been surprised, they just sat next to each other
and listened to the tapes as they looked out the windows.
We arrived about an hour before sunset. The houseboat was
everything I expected. The manager was on hand and he showed me
over the boat, giving limited instructions in a southern drawl
about starting the engine and other vital mechanical and electrical
equipment. I did my best to listen but it was difficult. The boys
went wild! When Leo was indicating on a chart where some nice spots
were located I finally gave up.
"You guys, stop chasing each other and quieten down. If you
want to help start bringing on the stuff from the Jeep". That was
all it took and the two boys settled down right away, carrying,
lugging, dumping boxes, bags and fishing tackle onto stern deck.
"Sorry about not having a boat with bunks for those two kids,"
Leo said as he stepped off the boat onto the dock.
I smiled, "Doesn't seem to bother them now. I think I'll use
the couch otherwise they'll keep me awake most of the night."
"Kids get excited 'round boats. Those two sure are cute kids
though. Now you guys have fun, 'n I'll see you in three weeks. If
you got a problem you have the number here, okay?"
I looked at Dylan and Kelly, they were more than cute, they
were downright beautiful boys but I wasn't going to say that to
Leo. "Heh Dylan, make yourself useful, go on the bow and when Leo
unties the line, you pull it aboard."
"Yeah, sure,... Dad," Dylan called back. My heart leaped.
"Kelly you watch out behind me and tell me if I'm going to hit
anything," I said, smiling as I saw my son's small face beam with
a flash of recognition. I motored out into the channel and the boys
joined me up on the 'bridge'. Once out of the marina I opened the
throttles and the houseboat picked up speed, skimming across the
almost dead calm water. The sun was just beginning to set, a rosy
red hue that promised a splendid day to come. Once on the other
side of the lake and about five miles from the marina we travelled
more slowly, searching for a quiet cove, a break in the shoreline
that was unoccupied. After about ten minutes, just as the light was
fading we motored into a small bay, peaceful, secure, private,
except for a few dozen ducks. Kelly was yawning and stretching, his
eyes almost closing, as I switched off the outboard engines.
I went forward, anchored the boat and then went into the main
cabin, Kelly had already curled up, still in his clothes, asleep
on the king-size bed and Dylan was undressing, his shirt thrown
over the chair, his tanned chest and stomach revealed. He looked
up as I came up next to him. "Kelly went out like a light," he
whispered. Then the twelve-year-old boy smiled sleepily, his own
eyes struggling to stay open, tugging his shorts slowly downward
to his knees. "We can do it,... if you want,..." the boy mumbled,
his voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.
For most of the long drive I had thought of little else than
this moment, of taking the boy to me and loving him. Gently I
pressed him back onto the bed next to Kelly and untied his shoe
laces, pulled them off, removed his socks and then finished taking
his shorts off. Except for the little neon-blue briefs, Dylan was
naked. I was going to take his underpants off too, to reveal his
magnificent boy-body but he was already sound asleep. Like Kelly,
he too 'went out like a light'. It had been a long day for Dylan
and I leaned forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. His
skin was soft and warm and dry and I felt the hot moistness of his
breath on my cheek, heard the boy's voice whisper, so quietly that
I could barely hear, ".... love you....", as he faded into sleep.
I sat there for a long while watching the two boys sleep, watching
the gentle movements of their chests, rising and falling with each
small breath, the little bodies stirring as dreams came.
Chapter 9.
I awoke slowly, dreaming of Dylan, of the beautiful naked boy
with his arms wrapped around my waist, his slender brown legs
around my buttocks, my penis inserted full depth into his anus. The
boy was using all of his strength to lift himself up and down, his
muscles straining, driving my cock hard into his body, then pulling
up, sucking loudly as my cock came almost all of the way the way
out, leaving just the head still inside, restricted by the boy's
tight anal band. His mouth was half-open and he was breathing
quickly, gasping for air, his hair dishevelled, tiny beads of sweat
on his forehead, his eyes closed. Then his motions became more
frenzied, jerking deliriously, his rectum squeezing, convulsing,
his head throw back, a scream of ecstasy as he climaxed. His body
erupted, from his small boy-penis a spurt of white-hot semen shot
out between our bodies, landing on his chest, then another, more
copious, thicker, like a grown man, his cock throbbing as more
spurts came, unbelievably white and gooey as it drooled down over
his narrow chest and belly. I stirred, sighing, trying to change
the outcome of my dream, trying to reverse and then replay Dylan
the way he was. Still not awake but semi-conscious, my eyes closed,
I lay still as the outside world became real again.
"Look at Daddy's penis, it's huge isn't it? Isn't it stiff?
Is it always this stiff?" I heard Kelly whisper.
"Huh? Yeah,..." Dylan whispered back, "Isn't it 'awesome'?
Stop wriggling 'round Kelly or you'll wake him up."
It took all my concentration to prevent a smile as the boys'
words entered my world. I sighed gently, then made my chest rise
and fall with each deep breath, feigning sleep.
"Can I touch it?" Kelly whispered, shifting slightly so that
he was closer to me.
"No dummy, that'll wake him for sure," Dylan admonished.
"I like how it looks without any hair, it's funny,... it looks
so smooth like that," my son whispered.
"Yeah! It looks like ours, like he's still just a little
kid,... except his dick is a whole lot bigger,..." Dylan giggled.
"Do you think my penis will be that big when I'm grown up?"
Kelly asked.
"I guess,... you're his kid,... you'll probably be as big I
s'pose. Your dick is already pretty big compared to mine isn't it,"
Dylan said. There was a note of sadness, regret, even a little shame
in the older boy's voice. For some reason every boy is sensitive
about the size of his penis. Boys like Dylan that are smaller than
average are always at a disadvantage.
"Does Daddy's penis really go inside your bottom?" Kelly asked
after a long pause.
"Huh huh", Dylan responded uncertainly. There was no denying
the urge that grew inside him even now, the desire becoming
stronger ever second that he lay there next to me. The boy's pale-
blue eyes were glued to my erect penis, remembering the sensations
he'd already experienced. The pain at first, the terror as the huge
cock sunk into him, the pressure building until he thought his body
would explode, then the bruising endless thrusting that lifted him
up even as the cock pounded down in his buttocks, down into the pit
of his belly, until every part of his young body was concentrated
below his spine. Part of him had hated it at first, tried to deny
that it had ever happened, demanded that he resist, then only a few
hours later in the dark bedroom he had conquered the hatred,
understood that he could never deny it again. The truth had risen
up inside him, he had discovered his true self that afternoon at
the farm. Even now Dylan knew that his own small cock was hard,
pointing stiffly out into the nylon of his new briefs. There was a
feeling in his belly, or rather deep inside his body, that gnawed
hungrily, a void demanding to be filled.
"How far, Dylan,... you know,... how far inside does it go?"
Kelly whispered, bringing Dylan back from his silent thoughts.
"Huh? Oh!,... Pretty far,... mostly the whole way in I guess,"
Dylan whispered, remembering, feeling a sudden rush of excitement,
now very aware of the demanding, aching presence of the void,
making his sphincter tighten though not uncomfortably, squeezing
on his bowel again and again. "Yeah, his dick goes in pretty far,"
he added proudly for emphasis.
"But,... doesn't it hurt, Dylan? I mean,... well Daddy's penis
is so big,... and well,... your bottom isn't that big,... He really
puts it in where you poop?" Kelly asked curiously. Confronted by
my erect penis, I could hear that the younger boy was frightened
as he considered what the answer to his question would mean.
"Yeah! It hurts,... at first it hurt like hell,... but I
didn't tell him. I knew he wanted to do it to me so much. Then after
a bit it doesn't,... well hurt as much,...well only it does, but
it's different. It gets kinda stretched back there, in my butt-
hole,... Don't be a dummy, Kelly, of course that's where he puts
it in me," Dylan whispered. I sensed Dylan's hand move slightly,
dropping downward, then his small fingers enclosing, squeezing on
the swollen rounded end of his penis where it is the most sensitive.
"Wow!" Kelly breathed out in awe, "It must be really big
inside you. Does he do pee in you? the younger boy asked
uncertainly.
Dylan giggled for a moment, "Not that big, like I said it
stretches inside me so he fits, at first it's really tight inside
if he just puts his finger in, then it gets loose after a bit. 'n
he does pee inside me Kelly, he puts his sperm in me," he whispered.
"Huh? Well,... but what's,... sperm?" Kelly asked
persistently.
"It's 'come',... what he makes babies with,... what he made
you with,... only he put it inside your mom," Dylan answered
patiently, then added as an after thought, "It's white and kinda
thick and creamy. You don't get it until you're older,... like a
teenager."
"So you and Daddy are making babies! I knew you were!" Kelly
said with conviction.
"Don't be dumb Kelly. I'm a boy, I can't have a baby, only
girls can," Dylan retorted.
"Okay, so why does he put his stuff in your bottom,... his
sperm stuff?" Kelly continued.
"'cause,... well 'cause it makes him feel good,... and me too
I guess,... It makes both of us feel good inside Kelly,..." Dylan
said as he looked down at my still erect penis, no longer excited
by my dream but by the boys instead. "It's,... well it's kind of
special, Kelly. I think it is anyway. I don't know why,... maybe
because part of him is inside me,... after he takes his dick out."
In those last few seconds Dylan's breathing had quickened and his
voice became increasingly husky and strained. I had a good idea of
what was on Dylan's mind.
The boys were quiet for a minute and I considered 'waking' up,
fairly certain of what awaited me. I liked the thought of what Dylan
had in store for me.
"Dylan,... can I,... ask you something?" Kelly began
awkwardly, his voice trembling nervously.
"Yeahhh," Dylan said huskily, his fingers squeezing harder and
faster on his rigid penis, rubbing the little head with his thumb,
"Yeahhh what Kelly?"
"Well,... can I watch?" Kelly mumbled.
"Huh?" Dylan sighed, moving his legs apart slightly, then
trembling as he squeezed his hand, rubbing on the short hard shaft
of his penis, massaging his little testicles under the nylon of his
bikini briefs, then pulling his legs back together again as the
pleasure mounted swiftly.
"Can I,... watch,... you know what you do with Daddy... Can I
watch him put his penis in your bottom,... can I?" Kelly asked
urgently.
"Huh? You already saw that,... on the farm," Dylan said, "on
Saturday,...have you forgotten?"
"No,... well,... but I didn't see that,... I saw you both
naked,... and I could see Daddy moving,... and you were kinda
crying and jerking around on the bed,... but I didn't see,... that
in your bottom," the younger boy answered. I knew Kelly had pointed
to my cock, I heard the peculiar mixture of fear and respect, the
wonder that a young boy feels when he is first confronted by a man's
erect penis, the tumescent power that commands obeisance, his own
small penis neglected and depreciated.
"Yeah,... I s'pose Kelly,... but you dad might not,... I guess
I don't mind but you can't ever tell anyone," Dylan said.
This was as good a time as any to wake up. I shifted, stirred,
sighed, rolled over slightly towards Dylan so that my nose was
pressed into his bare shoulder. He was warm and soft and sweet-
smelling. "Hmmmmm," I sighed, then I licked the boy's skin. Dylan
giggled as I licked again, downwards towards his tiny nipple. I
touched the softness of the little mound of flesh, probed with my
tongue, then nipped it lightly. "Hmmmmm, you taste soooo goooood,"
I said.
The older boy giggled again, "Hi! I thought you'd never wake
up.... It's almost nine.... Kelly and I've been awake for a long
while."
I started to laugh, unable to hold back any longer as I lifted
myself up, then scrambling over Dylan, pressing him back into the
bed, my legs either side of his, taking my weight on my arms. "So
Dylan,... I hear you like having my sperm in you?" I teased, my
cock jerking and throbbing hungrily as it protruded outward
pointing downward slightly toward the boy lying underneath me.
The boy looked up into my eyes, and he smirked obscenely as
he nodded, "I like it when you 'come'. It's awesome, you get all
shaky and wild-looking." He reached up, pulling my head down
towards him as he lifted up to meet me. The kiss was sweet and
gentle, Dylan's little tongue probing for mine, then as my tongue
found his, his mouth opened wide and he sucked me back, taking all
of my tongue before his own came swirling back to embrace me. I
lowered my hips, pressing down onto Dylan, taking just enough of
my weight on my knees and elbows so that he wasn't uncomfortable.
I felt the boy's hard little penis squished under my belly, his
slender arms locked tightly around my neck. My own cock lay in the
gap between his legs, the engorged head pressed hard into his
little soft scrotum, forcing his tiny delicate balls to the sides.
I knew what I wanted, I was pretty sure about I knew what Dylan
wanted.
I heard Kelly chanting childishly, "... Daddy and Dylan are
in love. Daddy and Dylan are in love. Dylan and Daddy are
kissing...." but I ignored him. I kissed Dylan again and again, his
hot wet mouth sealed to mine, his tongue pushing up, exploring all
the way into my mouth, my hips thrusting gently, making my cock
pulse forward into the rounded little hemisphere of the boy's
balls, rubbing his small cock under me.
Playfully slurping noisily as he broke the suction, Dylan
pulled his mouth from mine, "You wanna fuck me?" the boy whispered
in my ear, "'cause I do."
I grinned at him, my face only inches away from his. "You fell
asleep last night", I teased.
Dylan grinned back, "So! I'm not sleepy now, am I?"
"No," I laughed, "You certainly aren't. My little friend down
there feels pretty hard too."
"Yeah! So's mine... So you wanna?" Dylan asked huskily.
"Heh Dad, Dylan says he doesn't care if I watch," Kelly
blurted out, "So can I?... Please?"
I glanced sideways at my son. He was sitting up looking at us.
He'd taken his clothes off, everything except his pink-neon
underpants, so that like Dylan, he was nearly naked. The little
pointed tent in his new nylon briefs was unmistakable. I glanced
back at the boy underneath me, he shrugged and then smiled shyly,
"I don't care if he sees everything,... he's gonna see us sooner
or later. I guess the sooner he knows what happens, then he won't
bug us."
Dylan's logic was irrefutable. Get rid of the younger boy's
curiosity and he'd leave us alone.
I turned to Kelly, "Okay, but just this time. You have to do
us a favor first," I said. Kelly grinned at Dylan and nodded
obediently, his eagerness clearly displayed. "Okay, go get the
little jar of yellow stuff out of my bag, I think I left it on the
couch outside." Kelly hurried off and I turned my attention back
to Dylan. We kissed urgently, hungrily, enjoying the privacy we now
had together. With our mouths stilled locked together I carefully
rolled off Dylan and onto the bed, twisted back and with my left
hand tugged the boy's blue-neon briefs downward, my fingers crooked
under the thin elastic waist-band.
The tip of Dylan's penis caught under the waist-band, levering
it downward, then suddenly, loudly it came free and smacked against
his flat brown belly. "Ouch", Dylan complained, though now happy
to be free of the constraining cloth.
"Sorry," I teased as I pulled the offending briefs downward,
"Dylan junior sure is hard isn't he. I s'pose that hurts more than
getting him stuck in a zipper huh,?"
"Yeah! You gotta be more careful. He's just a little guy,"
Dylan answered as his feet came through the briefs and he was naked
and exposed. "Yeahhhh!" he sighed, his slender legs parting wider,
his hips pushing upward to make his cock surge forwards.
I leaned forward over the boy kissing him again as my eyes
travelled down his slim body, his small thin penis suspended
parallel to his belly, his balls shrivelled up beneath, then I
followed my eyes down with my fingers and lips, kissing his neck
and shoulders, tracing circles on his chest, teasing his nipples,
then kissing his chest, his belly, tracing his firm stomach muscles
down to his groin, then feeling the hard hot head of his penis
between my lips as my fingers enclosed the slightly moist heat of
his scrotum, squeezing on the precious cargo within as gently as I
could. Although this certainly wasn't the first time I felt the
boy's testicles, I was suddenly very aware of the delicate skin of
the boy's pouch, the size of his testicles, barely bigger than
marbles, the role that they would eventually play as he grew into
manhood. Parts of my dream returned and I felt sad that eventually
Dylan would no longer be the same boy that he was now.
"Daddy's sucking on Dylan's penis," Kelly chanted in his
teasing sing-song voice. He stood in the doorway, clearly
fascinated, obviously very excited, fingers enclosing and
squeezing on the bulge in his briefs, cupping between his little
brown legs, working his fingers into the underside of his ball-sac.
Dylan was not one to teased at a time like this, "So! So what?
I love it when he does this to me. It feels awesome! Did you get
what he wanted?" he asked, challenging the younger boy.
"'couldn't find it. I looked all over too," Kelly retorted
angrily.
I sighed, knowing it was there, reluctant to get up and go
look for it myself. Finally I pulled my head away from Dylan's
throbbing, now-very wet cock. "Okay, well go out there and find the
bottle of vegetable oil,... it's got Crisco,... C-R-I-S-C-O- on the
label,... it's for cooking,... it's with the food things," I said.
"Okay,... but well,... why do you need it?" Kelly asked,
"'cause I thought you were going to fuck Dylan," he giggled, then
added, "'n his skin isn't that dry anyway."
"Well Dylan needs something to make him slippery inside.
Otherwise it would really hurt a lot," I answered, "Go and get the
oil tiger," I added.
Kelly disappeared again, a few seconds passed, sounds as he
looked though the boxes, then he padded back into the bedroom
carrying the bottle of Crisco. "This it?" he asked as he placed it
in my hand.
I nodded and unscrewed the cap. "Okay Dylan, assume the
position, kiddo. On your belly, butt up, and part those beautiful
cheeks of yours," I laughed. Dylan complied eagerly, crouching down
with his buttocks lifted up, his small thin fingers grasping each
pale smooth cheek and pulling them apart to reveal the length of
his crack. I smeared my fingers into the crevice, running from his
little scrotum all the way up to his spine. Dylan sighed, then
sighed again as my fingers returned, pausing at the soft
indentation of his anus. I wasn't sure that it would do the job but
there was only one way to find out. The amber-yellow oil was cool
and it glistened on my fingers, it was slippery and oily, not greasy
like Vaseline. I pressed my forefinger into the boy's bud, felt him
tremble at the contact, the momentary resistance, the quiver of his
sphincter, the flesh parting as my finger penetrated the boy's
tight anal band. The warmth and pressure inside Dylan's body was
instantaneous. He gasped, then breathed out as he felt my finger
surge forward, a relentless pressure driving into his body slowly,
a spasm as his muscle instinctively contracted on the foreigner. I
twisted my finger down, grinding into the boy's prostate. Dylan
yelped, a sudden intake of breath, then breathing out slowly, so
slowly that it turned into a long drawn out moan as the incredible
pleasure he'd discovered within his body returned again. "Yeahhhh
Yeahhhh! Do it there,...that's soooo good!" he whimpered, taking
his hands away from his buttocks and using them to hold the pillows
at his face and shoulders.
Kelly looked on, visibly enthusiastic, captivated as he
watched the older boy writhing, pushing back, demanding more of my
finger, his gasps increasing in intensity with every second. After
a few more minutes I eased my finger out. Already Dylan's anus was
dilated, not fully, but enough that it didn't close up again as my
finger pulled free. I picked up the bottle of oil, then lifting
Dylan's buttocks higher, and pushing his cheeks apart, I placed the
opening of the bottle at the boy's anus. I squeezed gently, forcing
the oil bottle forward so that the openings were sealed together.
Dylan shivered slightly as he felt the coolness of the oil seeping
down into his rectum. A little escaped, dribbling down his crevice
and onto the wrinkled little ball-sac, then dripping onto the
sheet. I didn't care but I was glad that I'd decided to bring our
own sheets and towels. I stopped when I figured there was a bit
less than a half of a cup of oil inside him. Dylan crouched
uncertainly, feeling the coolness inside his body fade slowly, a
warm pleasant sensation. He looked back over his shoulder, "Put it
in," he said, his voice breaking.
I needed no further invitation, I laced the bottle of oil on
the night-stand and ran my oil covered hand up and down the shaft
of my cock, making it glisten. I moved until I was kneeling behind
the boy and I came forward as I leaned over him, bringing my hips
towards his buttocks. The boy tensed as he felt my cock probing
into his crack, locate the soft hot opening, then press forward,
burrowing into him. The oil made a remarkable difference. His anal
band resisted my entry valiantly for a few seconds, then in the
slippery oil, I slid through. Unused to my cock going in so quickly,
Dylan shuddered and tried to pull away but I held him tightly by
the hips and I pushed until I knew that the boy was on the verge
of panic. He was shaking like a fish on a spear, impaled on my cock
without warning. Already I was about half in. I held onto the boy
tightly as his struggles passed, becoming feeble, then finally he
was quiet, breathing deeply, his anal band stretched tightly around
my cock. I began to thrust, using slow gentle motions, moving my
cock little more than a fraction of an inch. Then as he loosened a
bit more I began to move a more, still not more than an inch, each
time going just a little deeper until enough of my cock, probably
five inches or more, had disappeared and my balls were beginning
to slap against Dylan's small scrotum with every thrust forward.
Kelly was squatting on the bed watching us, watching the
rhythm of my body against Dylan's body, watching the boy shudder
and gasp every few seconds, twitching as spasms continued to pass
through him without warning. "Aren't you hurting Dylan?" he asked
me nervously.
I was about to say no, that the boy was okay, when Dylan
twisted his head around towards Kelly. I saw Dylan smile weakly,
then shaking his head he said hoarsely, "No,... he's,... not,...
hurting,... me.... I,.... feel,... so good,...inside."
I felt happy with about five inches inside the boy, his rectum
was tight and it seemed that if I pushed any further the head of
my cock was forced into a very sensitive place that resisted my
deeper progression. It was, I thought, probably the end of his
rectum as it turned to the side and merged into his large intestine.
I had no desire to displace his insides or rupture his bowel. Dylan
seemed comfortable at that point as well, a little deeper, a little
greater pressure and I could sense his body fighting the sudden
pain that welled up inside him. I began to move my hips a little
faster, building up the rhythm and allowing my cock to pull back
further and further in the slippery hot flesh. It was like being
inside a tube, a very hot and alive tube, every movement of my body
transferred directly into Dylan's body and every movement of his
came back into mine. We were joined as one, inseparably moving as
one, sharing just five inches of our bodies, yet each of us
concentrating all of our feelings, every sensation. It seemed as
if our entire beings were located there, as if we existed only for
the overpowering delight that began at the base of Dylan's spine
and ended in my hard throbbing cock.
With my cock still embedded inside the boy I carefully rolled
the two of us onto the bed so that we were lying on our sides, Dylan
facing towards Kelly. He was curled up slightly, his knees drawn
up towards his chest as though he was still crouching on the bed.
My body followed Dylan's, curving behind his back, my hand around
the boy's waist, gently stroking his little navel. I couldn't see
the expression on Dylan's face but I could see Kelly's. It was one
of wonder, of rapture, of delight. I doubted whether it was that
much different from the expression on Dylan's face, except that the
older boy was in considerably greater ecstasy. In this position
Kelly could see very little of what I was doing to the older boy
and it upset him, for a moment he leaned forward on his haunches,
peering down between us, now unsatisfied, his view obstructed
almost completely, he straightened up, pouting.
I smiled at my nearly-seven-year-old son, fascinated by his
sexual interest, wondering what thoughts were passing through his
small head as he watched. I knew that he'd been extremely
interested, perhaps entranced would be a better word, as he watched
my thighs moving back and forth against Dylan's small pale buttocks
even though he could have seen very little from where he was. Sooner
or later Kelly would have to know what my love for Dylan actually
entailed and this seemed like as good a time as any. I placed my
hand on Dylan's upper leg, sliding my fingers between his leg and
thigh, behind his knee. Slowly I lifted his leg upward, he shifted
uncomfortably as his legs came apart and my cock moved inside his
belly changing the position of the pressure within him. I held his
slender leg high in the air, almost perpendicular to his body,
revealing his genitals, exposing the both mine and the boy's body.
I looked over his shoulder, seeing Kelly staring between Dylan's
legs, his mouth open in amazement, his eyes wide, focused on the
older boy's penis, then the sudden realization that he was looking
at my penis disappearing into Dylan.
Dylan's penis was limp, retracted slightly into his body so
that it was barely two inches long, his testicles had tightened in
a small knot of crinkled flesh, fine corrugations criss-crossing
over the taut pouch, a little fold of skin running from the
underside as it followed the line of his urethra back into his crack
before it merged into his body. Two inches further along the boy's
crack and the dark ring of his anus was stretched impossibly wide
around my cock and forced inwards. Like an O ring, it formed a tight
seal, swelling around the underside of my cock, but the seal was
imperfect, both mine and Dylan's cock and balls were coated with
the glistening oil that seeped out, a little amber-colored trickle
running down the length of the boy's crack. About two inches were
still outside, the rest contained deep inside Dylan's body. I
pulled back gently, withdrawing almost all the way until only the
swollen helmet head of my cock was still inside, the flange pulling
into the boy's anal band, ready to pop free. I saw Kelly's eyes
staring as my cock came into view, the boy's anus pulling back with
it slowly, trying to hold on before the friction was broken. Dylan
groaned, feeling the pressure fading, the void forming inside him.
Then gently I thrust my cock back into Dylan, sliding on the oil
slicked flesh until my balls pressed into his cheeks. Dylan groaned
again as my cock filled him, surging past his aching prostate. I
paused letting the boy relax, his ragged breathing slowing rapidly
until he was breathing deeply.
"It doesn't hurt him," Kelly whispered, "Your penis is in
Dylan nearly all the way and he's okay."
I nodded, feeling Dylan's sphincter tighten involuntarily,
momentarily grasping on my cock. "He likes it Kelly, if I move very
gently,... he likes it a lot."
"But,... well Daddy if he likes it,... so much,... then,...
well,... why is his penis so soft? You said it gets hard when he's
excited. Your's is really hard but Dylan's isn't!" my son observed.
"That's because all of the good feelings that Dylan has are
deep inside him, not outside on his penis, Kelly. Inside his body,
where my penis is right now there is a very sensitive place, his
prostate, and my penis rubs against it. A little bit further inside
is his bladder, remember I said that was where he stores his pee,
sometimes my penis pushes into his bladder. That feels so good that
it makes him lose control a bit, so he pees a little bit at a time,"
I said.
"Like before, at the farm, when there was pee in his belly
button?" Kelly asked curiously. He looked down at Dylan
thoughtfully, "But,... well why doesn't his penis feel good now?"
he asked doubtfully.
"Because I'm not touching it right now. If I was Kelly, he'd
be nice and hard, just like you are," I grinned, looking at the
little 'stick' poking out in Kelly's briefs.
My son glanced down between his legs and smirked back at me,
"Can I,... can I make Dylan's penis stiff like mine?" he asked.
I nodded, and Kelly reached forward tentatively, the tips of
his little fingers gently stroking the wrinkles in the other boy's
scrotum. "Squeeze his balls Kelly, just a little bit," I
instructed, "Kind of roll them between your fingers,... he likes
that a lot," I smiled as Dylan whined in delight. "Don't do it too
hard, he's still a little boy and his balls are very sensitive,...
we don't want to hurt him,... just make him feel good," I added as
Kelly's fingers tightened slightly.
"Oh!... Sorry Dyl," he murmured. The older boy, his face half-
hidden in the pillows, shook his head, gasping as my cock became
alive inside him again, pumping steadily but very carefully.
"Wow! That's incredible," Kelly said, "I can see your penis
moving in Dylan's Tammy. It's making it bulge out as you push it
in and out," he giggled.
I looked down along Dylan's body, he was shaking slightly, his
bottom leg trembling, twisting. Kelly was right, there was a
distinct movement in Dylan's lower belly, a kind of bulge that
moved up towards his navel as I pushed in, then down again as I
pulled back. I had never noticed it before, never realized what
happened as my cock filled him, displacing his insides, suddenly I
felt intensely proud of the naked boy lying before me. I eased back,
taking my hand away from Dylan's leg and placing it flat on his
lower belly. As I pushed back I felt his belly surge, a hard bulge
that was the head of my cock deep within him. I felt the same
intense thrill that I had known the first time that I felt Kelly
moving inside his mother's body. It felt alive, and very, very
special. "You feel okay Dylan?" I asked gently.
The boy nodded abruptly, his unkempt hair an unruly mess of
silky golden-blond strands. I put my hand back under Dylan's leg
and continued to move slowly going as deep as I could until the
boy's body resisted me. Slowly Kelly teased Dylan's small penis
into responding, then as the blood flow increased, the older boy
stiffened rapidly, his small cock springing up until it was rigid
and almost unyielding. The minutes passed as I began to move a
little faster, as Kelly's hand fluttered urgently, stroking Dylan's
little penis feverishly. Then without warning Dylan began to writhe
on the bed, trying to grind his hips back onto my cock while working
his cock against Kelly's hand, "Faster,.... okay,..." he hissed as
he breathed rapidly, short panting breaths that didn't fill his
lungs. I watched as he began to strain, felt his rectum squeezing,
forcing himself onto my cock, trying to increase the already
unbearable pressure on his immature prostate. His legs were
quivering, his arms jerking, then his body arched back against mine
and I could feel every muscle in that slight body straining hard,
the muscles in his belly standing out as he tensed, then he
convulsed with a sudden squeal from deep in his belly, shuddering
as his body began to twitch. I stopped moving, taking my cock out
almost to the rim of his anus, leaving just enough inside so that
I still possessed him but giving him the relief that he desperately
needed. A couple of pale watery droplets of urine dribbled out of
the end of his penis, running down the swollen little shaft and
wetting Kelly's hand.
"What happened to Dylan, Daddy? Why did he go all funny like
that?...He did pee pee again too, Daddy," Kelly smirked.
I grinned at my son, "Dylan had what's called an orgasm,
Kelly. It's when all his feelings come at once, and he feels so
wonderful inside that he can't control himself. It's not a proper
orgasm, like he'll have when he's older, when his sperm will come
out, but it's still an orgasm. You helped him, Kelly,... by rubbing
on his penis, you made him feel 'specially nice down there."
I let the boy relax, waiting for the tremors to pass, for his
body to regain it's control, knowing that I could keep on and he'd
have more, several more before I finished. His body had loosened
even further, the sphincter dilating fully, allowing my cock to
slide back into him, now his rectum felt less like a slippery pipe
than it did his mouth, the soft hot tissue enveloping my cock. It
was wetter, juicier than it had been before, almost as if a copious
flow of mucous had been part of his orgasm. My cock moved easily
now, there was little resistance, just the ever-present tightness
of his anal band like a ring around my cock shaft, the suction of
my cock caused mostly by the slippery juice that oozed around my
cock.
"It feels really loose Dylan," I said.
"Yeah! Yeah I know, I feel like,... like jelly inside."
Kelly grinned, "That was cool Dylan, you went wild for a bit,
like you were crazy or something."
"I'm sorry I peed on your hand, Kelly," Dylan said with
effort, his body drained from the effort of the last few minutes,
"I,... I couldn't help it."
"It's okay Dyl, really I don't mind,... It sure smells kinda
funny, though," Kelly added. He was right, the smell wafted up from
between our bodies, the odor was distinct and not unpleasant, a
sweet smell, not of faeces, but musky. Kelly grinned at Dylan as
he identified it's source, "It's coming from Dylan, Daddy. He
smells like bread, like right before it goes in the oven."
I nodded, my son had described it perfectly, a sweet, yeasty
smell, like the smell a child gets when he has a very high fever.
"It's from inside his body, Kelly. And you're right, it does smell
like that doesn't it?"
I began a slow regular rhythm, moving my hips backward and
forward as I rocked against the boy's buttocks. There was no rush,
I wanted to savor every blessed wonderful feeling of being inside
my beautiful young boy. After his orgasm Dylan's penis had
subsided, no longer erect, but not soft either, it was rubbery and
firm, still slightly elongated, and non-responsive to Kelly's
gently moving hand. My son turned to me curiously, "What's
wrong,... why won't it get hard again like before?" he asked
nervously, "Did I hurt it,... or break something?"
I grinned and shook my head, "No Kelly, he's okay,... he's
tired that's all, and his penis is sleepy,... like after you've had
a big dinner," I added.
Kelly giggled, "Okay, but what should I do now?"
I shrugged, "Whatever you want... Maybe Dylan would like you
to play with his balls... Why don't you ask him?"
Dylan looked up at Kelly and smiled, still exhausted but
sympathetic to the younger boy's need to participate. "Yeah", he
said hoarsely, twisting his head around so that he looked at me
over his shoulder, "Can I have him suck me,... like you did?" he
asked.
I shook my head, "Kelly's not ready for that yet Dylan, not
like this anyway, not now, okay." Dylan nodded. "Kelly just play
with his balls the way you were before,... or if you want, let Dylan
do your penis instead."
My son grinned and complied willingly with the my last
suggestion, quickly sitting back on the bed and tugging his little
pink-neon briefs off. He tossed them onto the floor and settled
back with his head in the pillows next to Dylan, his body facing
towards the older boy. Dylan reached forward, taking the boy's
small hard penis between his fingers, rubbing on the tiny helmet-
shaped tip, the minute slit barely visible. I was still thrusting
gently into Dylan, feeling the fabulous lubricity of his body
working against mine, I planned to keep doing it for a long while,
pausing whenever I felt my own orgasm approach. I watched Dylan
masturbating Kelly, his hand moving awkwardly, stroking the short
hard shaft with difficulty as he tried to concentrate on pleasuring
the younger boy while at the same time his own delight was
boundless. After a few minutes Kelly began to reciprocate, fondling
Dylan's delicate balls, trying hard to renew the older boy's
erection. It was difficult for both boys, I could see that Kelly's
heart wasn't in it. After a few minutes he lost interest and he
took his hand away. "I'm hungry, Daddy," Kelly announced curtly,
as he sat up again and swung his legs off the bed, "You guys have
fun fucking, I'm gonna get somethin' to eat."
He padded, almost noiselessly out of the room. "What's wrong
with Kelly?" Dylan asked quietly, "He's acting like he's angry".
I shrugged, "Jealous of all the attention you're getting
probably. Don't worry, he'll get over it," I whispered in Dylan's
ear. Lovingly I touched his soft ear lobe with my tongue, pressing
it close to his head, burying my nose into his soft hair, "I love
you Dylan Brady, Kelly has to understand what that means. That
we'll be together sometimes, we'll do things that he can't always
be part of."
"Yeah, I know,... I love you too... Holy shit! Alex, that
feels so good,... when you do it slow like that... It feels all
mushy inside me.... But Kelly's part of us too,... Well I like him
a lot,... I always wished I had a baby brother," Dylan murmured.
"In a way, well I guess you do," I said gently, pushing a
little deeper into the boy, until his resistance increased, before
backing away. "God you feel wonderful Dylan."
It seemed endless, our bodies moving relentlessly, right up
to the point of my orgasm before I eased off, taking Dylan over the
precipice time and time again until the boy was almost unconscious,
his body drained, his young strength exhausted. Then I felt the
point of no return, realized that this time I was going to be unable
to hold back, and I began to pump faster. Dylan summoned the last
of his energy, thrusting back against me as hard as he could, his
hips moving feebly, his pitiful gasps coming between barely audible
moans. For a while my cock hadn't been all that hard, but it was
hard enough to keep Dylan very, very happy. It hardened again in
those last few seconds, my orgasm imminent, then as I thrust
wildly, my body flailing, my hands grasping the boy's hips so that
we were locked together, I felt my orgasm bursting up the shaft of
my cock and spurting again and again deep inside Dylan's body.
And then it was over, as the dying spasms made my cock jerk,
I dropped back, my heart pounding, gasping for air, totally
drained, my cock pulling free of the boy's body so that the final
spurt came over the pale, glistening skin of his cheeks, dribbling
down onto the bed. I hugged Dylan to me, he was sobbing, not crying
but close to it, trembling as his own delight faded.
Minutes passed, long slow minutes until the heat in Dylan's
slender body passed, until his rapid breathing quietened, until his
heart slowed, until the longing that continued deep inside his
belly faded. Then I sensed that the boy had dozed off, finding
relief in sleep. I held him closely, pressing into his soft warm
body, nuzzling his smooth neck, kissing him gently on the
shoulders, trying to relive the precious time I'd shared with him,
wishing that the boy was still awake so that I could tell him how
much I loved him. Suddenly I became aware of Kelly standing in the
doorway, watching silently, still totally naked, his little penis
now hanging limp and loose between his legs.
I saw that Kelly was about to say something and I pressed my
forefinger to my lips to show that he should be quiet, smelling the
pungent, though sweet odor that lingered from the juices that still
flowed inside the boy's body. Kelly nodded and tiptoed over to the
bed, standing shamelessly naked before me almost flaunting his
beautiful little body. In the last few months Kelly had become
increasingly inhibited about the private parts of his body, no
longer charging around the house stark naked, or coming into the
bathroom or bedroom when I was. Though I still saw the boy naked
several times a week it was without the freedom he'd had earlier.
Now he was reversing his recent progression, undoing the influences
of his friends at school and societal standards, his small hand
shifted towards his genitals, then placing it in the furrow between
his groin and thigh, he cupped his little fingers around and under
his scrotum, massaging himself deliberately as he looked down at
me. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to
do, but then Dylan and I were naked as well.
"Dylan's asleep," I whispered, looking up at my nearly seven-
year-old son, amused by the fact that his penis, when limp, was
every bit as big as Dylan's was. I wondered how large Dylan would
be when he grew up. He was slender now, a slim boy that was less
than average height and weight for his age. Kelly was a good ten
inches shorter than Dylan and he weighed just on forty-eight pounds
dressed the way he was right now.
Kelly nodded. "But he just woke up, Daddy?"
"He's tired, Kelly. Doing what we did takes a lot of energy.
He'll wake up in a bit. What's the time?"
"Huh? Oh,... it was,... um,... ten 'oclock a bit ago," he said
quietly.
"What, I didn't think it was that late,... are you sure?" I
asked.
Kelly nodded. I was surprised, I knew I'd been with Dylan for
a long time, but an hour? Actually a little over an hour if Kelly's
ability to tell the time was good. I looked down at Dylan proudly,
"No wonder he's asleep," I thought aloud.
"Huh?" Kelly asked.
"Oh,... nothing.... I was just thinking.... Have you had
breakfast yet?" I asked.
Kelly smiled and shook his head, "I was outside on the deck.
It's nice in the sun. There are ducks hanging around and the water's
so clear I think you can see fish.... Can we go fishing Dad?" he
asked excitedly.
I grinned, remembering what I had said to Dylan about Kelly
being just a little bit jealous of all the attention the older boy
was receiving. Carefully I pulled away from Dylan, and got to my
feet. I looked down at the sleeping boy. For an instant I thought
Dylan looked innocent, as only children can when they are asleep,
but there was a large round stain under his hips, dark against the
white cotton sheets, a clear sign which together with the sweet,
musky smell provided vivid evidence of what had transpired on the
bed. Luckily, for once there seemed to be no blood on either of us,
and I lifted the sheet up over him so that his naked body was
hidden.
"Come on Kelly," I whispered, leading the way out of the room.
He glanced down at the older boy and then followed me out of the
room.
In the front 'cabin' I turned and faced my son, we looked at
each other. I admired my son's perfect little body, the wide gap
between his slender brown legs, the minature genitals, the smooth
hairless skin. He smiled shyly, knowingly and he swallowed
nervously as he summoned up his courage, "Daddy,... Are you going
to do that,... to me too,... when I'm older?" he asked.
I looked at the boy, noticing that his eyes were fixed on my
groin, on the pale hairless skin around my limp penis, still
glistening with an oily sheen, still slightly wet with the mucus
slime from inside Dylan and the semen that I had deposited there.
Suddenly I wasn't certain of the answer to his question. I felt
sick, not as though I was going to be sick, but unhappily sick, a
kind of dread that I'd started something that could only end in
complete and absolute disaster for all of us.
"You want to eat breakfast first or go fishing?" I asked,
breaking the silence that had filled the room.
"I already had some,... I got some Cheerios outta the box,"
he said, still nervous, on the edge of fear. "I guess fishing," he
added.
I picked up the two fishing rods and the cardboard box with
the night crawlers that I'd bought at the marina and guided Kelly
outside into the warm sunshine. It was peaceful and beautiful, the
sun sparkling on the water, the early morning mist still visible
amongst the trees where the sun had yet to reach. A few mallard
ducks were swimming about forty feet away, the water so clear that
you could see to the bottom, perhaps ten feet down. "So where did
you see the fish?" I prompted.
"Up front, Daddy."
There was no one around and the little bay was totally
private. I walked up to the bow with Kelly, our naked bodies side
by side, then we sat down, dangling our legs over the side. Kelly
turned to me and grinned, he was a very happy little boy. I passed
my son his fishing rod and watched from the corner of my eye as his
small fingers tried to attach a crawler. He was growing up fast.
He flipped the bail back and dropped his line into the water with
a little splash. It sank away into water. I sighed deeply. "What's
wrong Dad?" he asked gently.
I turned to Kelly, "Huh? Oh! Nothing's wrong.... I don't think
I've ever been this happy before."
Kelly looked up at me, "Because of Dylan?.... Because you love
each other?"
"Yes,... that and the fact that I'm here with you." I placed
my arm protectively around his bare shoulders and he scooted a bit
closer so that his small leg was pressed against mine.
The boy glanced downward, "I like him,... your penis,... like
this,... without any hair,... your penis is just like mine,... and
Dylan's too.... It's like we're three boys?"
I grinned, letting my own line drop into the water and I hugged
Kelly closely to me.
Kelly was right, there were fish in the water, big ones, about
a foot or more in length, you could see them swimming around lazily,
coming nearer to the bait, then shearing away as if they had nothing
better to do than play with us.
Kelly and I started to make jokes about them, pretending that
the fish were geniuses, or that they all had college degrees, or
that ..... An hour passed without a nibble before we were ready to
give up, get up, and get breakfast.
I heard Dylan come out of the cabin even as he called out,
"Hi! So you guys catch anything yet."
Kelly and I both turned around and smiled at the naked boy,
"You finally decided to get out of bed?" I teased.
Dylan grinned and stepped closer, "So where are all the fish?"
Kelly giggled, "They're too smart for Daddy. I think they
don't like eating crawlers for breakfast."
Dylan grinned and came up next to me, his hand dropping down
onto my shoulder, rubbing gently. It was more than a friendly
gesture, it was full of love and happiness, and fond memories of
what we had shared only an hour earlier. "I'm starved," he said. I
reached around, sliding my hand up his bare leg, past his knee,
then following the inside of his thigh until my fingers brushed
against his delicate little scrotum. In the heat, without the
demands of passion, it had loosened up, the tiny pink folds as soft
as the purest silk, a tracery of veins under the almost translucent
skin. "You feel okay?" I asked.
Dylan nodded, "Yeah! I guess,... it feels kinda sloppy
inside,... like it's all wet and loose back there... But it doesn't
hurt or anything like that."
"It is wet and loose back there,... we did it for over an hour,
Dylan. I'm surprised you can still stand up, let alone walk." I
teased.
The boy smirked, "Yeah! Well I probably couldn't swim or dive
or anything like that. Have you guys had breakfast yet?" he asked
hopefully.
I got up, pulling my son to his feet, "Come on Kelly, let's
get breakfast, it sounds like Dylan is getting hungry. We can leave
the rods here, maybe something stupid will come swimming along."
The boys laughed and I led the way back into the cabin. I'd
brought eggs and bacon for our first breakfast on the boat. The
boys and I needed the energy boost of a fried breakfast. It was
impossible not to notice Dylan's naked body and remember, to feel
an overpowering urge to take him back into the bedroom and repeat
the experience, again and again. He was beautiful, not even close
to the onset of puberty, still a boy with a young boy's body, but
one that was fit and healthy, and perfect in every way. Again and
again my eyes came back to admire the lean slender torso, the lithe
brown limbs, the little boy genitals, bouncing, bobbing, always
arousing my interest.
I had almost finished cooking the eggs when Kelly began to
giggle. He pointed at Dylan, at a dribble of yellowish fluid that
had run from the boy's crack and half way down the inside of his
right thigh. "You're dripping," I laughed, "I guess you must be
pretty juicy back there," I teased.
Dylan was hungry and in no mood to be teased, "Well you put
it there," he retorted.
I put the spatula down and pulled the naked boy to me, placing
my leg between his legs and hugging him, smearing the wetness over
us as I tickled the squirming body in the places where I knew he
was most sensitive. Dylan started to giggle then he began to hug
me back, pressing his little cock into my leg as his mouth came up
to meet mine. "Gee you guys, come on I'm hungry," Kelly complained.
I laughed as I pulled off a paper towel from the side of the
stove, turned Dylan around, knelt down and carefully wiped out his
crack. The boy was still dilated. I knew that his opening was not
as large as it had been earlier, but it wasn't far from it, perhaps
a half inch in diameter still, the muscle of the boy's anus still
stretched so that I could see the crimson-red of the inside of his
rectum. There was no sign of the pucker that a boy should have, his
anus opened inwards and the narrow rim was darker than I'd ever
seen it. I leaned forward and kissed his pale soft cheeks on either
side and then straightened back up. "You're pretty big back there,"
I said.
"What do you expect after fucking me for over an hour?" Dylan
grinned as he went over to the table to get the plates.
I looked at the two naked boys and knew this was going to be
an 'awesome' three weeks.
Chapter 10.
We carried our plates out into the sunshine and sat at the
small table in the stern sun-deck. It was a wonderful meal in a
beautiful setting, but more than anything else I enjoyed watching
the two boys devour their food hungrily.
The sun streamed onto their naked bodies as they stretched
out in the chairs, legs shamelessly stretched wide apart, small
genitals exposed to the fresh air and sun. For a boy who spends the
vast majority of his life clothed, the sense of liberation that
comes with being naked and free is exhilarating. The boys giggled and
teased me continually. None of us had even eaten breakfast in the
nude before and it was a lot of fun, harmless fun, without any
sexual overtones except for the occasional giggle about my hairless
dick!
After breakfast, and a late breakfast at that, the boys and I
went back to fishing. This time, they promised, they were going to
'show me how to do it'. Dylan had never been fishing before. I guess
that fishing is just one more thing, of a great many things, that
most mothers don't get into with their sons. No wonder Dylan was
anxious to have a man's company, he needed my attention in more
ways than the one we'd already experienced that morning.
I handed my fishing rod to Dylan, pulled up a deck chair and
settled back in the sun. It was amusing to watch Dylan and Kelly
together as they sat side by side, like two brothers, fishing off
the bow, their slender brown legs dangling over the side. Since
he'd woken up, Dylan had quietened down considerably. I wondered
whether the memory of what I had done to him was still strong in
his mind but the more I thought about it the more that I was
convinced that there was a deeper problem. I waited, sooner or
later Dylan would open up.
Dylan was noticeably quieter than usual, not sulky, just much
quieter, almost as if he was still exhausted, though I knew that
he'd pretty much gotten his strength back while he'd slept and from
a hearty breakfast. For Dylan had eaten like a horse, and a hungry
horse at that. I smiled as I looked at his lean body, tiny brown
ripples of skin at his belly. He was slim, his waist and hips so
narrow that you had to wonder where he put all the food. He finished
off his share of the eggs and bacon in nothing flat and then started
on my breakfast. But then, that is one of the delights of boys like
Dylan.
I let him eat most of the bacon, I didn't need the saturated
fat; and one of my eggs, I didn't need the cholesterol either. But
I drew the line at my toast and coffee and one solitary egg. After
all I needed to keep my strength up too.
The sun rose higher in the sky and it began to get quite hot.
After about half an hour I could feel the sun burning into the pale,
untanned skin of my thighs.
The last thing I wanted was one of the boys, but especially
not Dylan, to get sunburned down there. Dylan has the kind of skin
that tans quickly and darkly. For that matter so does Kelly, though
his skin is fairer and more delicate, and more likely to burn if
he gets too much sun at one time. I got up and went back to the
cabin, found the large squeeze-bottle of suntan lotion and went
back outside.
The boys looked up and smiled as I came up. "Who's going
first?" I asked. I grinned at Dylan, "The last thing we want is
Dylan junior getting sunburn."
Dylan grinned back at me cheekily, "Or Dylan's butt either,...
'specially not Dylan's butt."
I laughed, "You're not wrong about that Dylan. I do want you
to have a nice tan,... all over though," I said. Dylan smiled and
I reached down and took his hand and lifted him up easily. It was
nearly midday and as I touched his bare skin I could feel the sun's
heat burning into him. I stood in front of the beautiful young boy,
knowing without even looking down that my penis was stiffening from
just being so close to him. I didn't know whether Dylan was the
same way but I did know that it wouldn't take him very long. The
boy looked up into my eyes and I tried to see into his head, to
read his mind, to discover what was bothering him so much. Guilt,
shame, fear at being gay? I wanted to help him, I wanted to show
him how much I loved him, I wanted to take care of him for ever.
As the boy looked back I could sense the love he had for me, more
than just the lust and the passion we'd shared on the bed, but a
deep affection that seemed to grow stronger every minute we were
together.
I squeezed a large thick line of white cream over his
shoulders and chest and began to massage it in thoroughly. Dylan
didn't mind this one little bit, unlike Kelly who usually puts up
something of a fight. Dylan just stood there with a happy smile on
his face, enjoying the firm movement of my hands on his body,
meeting my eyes every few seconds, breathing steadily. I worked my
way around his back making sure that all of the exposed flesh was
well protected. Then I began on his buttocks, covering the pale
smooth skin of his small cheeks thoroughly.
I even made sure that there was some inside his deep crack,
though it was unlikely that the sunlight would ever see it. It was
a good opportunity to make sure that his anus was still on the way
to recovery. I knelt down, parted his cheeks gently and examined
the boy.
The boy's anus was still contracting, getting smaller and
tighter, though still dilated. I wondered whether I had stretched
him too far, but other than the residual slackness at his small
orifice there seemed to be no other damage. There was some
yellowish slime that had oozed out of the opening and formed a
little foamy spot where his anus was. It smelled exactly like
rising dough, the yeasty smell that Kelly had identified earlier
that morning. It was a sweet smell, a nice smell, a smell that I
had brought forth from deep inside the young boy's body. I inhaled
deeply, absorbing the odor.
Then with my tongue extended as far out as possible I licked
the boy, from the back of his silky-soft ball-sac, all the way along
the length of his crack, and up to his backbone. Then back again,
pausing for a brief second at his still loose hole. It was
remarkable that after two hours the boy's opening was still dilated
enough for my tongue to slip inside easily. The taste of Dylan's
body was overpowering, the taste of salt and a not unpleasant sweet
taste. As I licked and sucked I couldn't help but wonder if Dylan
was enjoying it as much as I did. Then as the thought entered my
mind Dylan let out a sigh of pleasure and my tongue surged into him
as far as I could reach. The boy responded immediately, pressing
back against me so that my face was squashed against his warm smooth
cheeks. His bottom was slippery from the lotion and the smell was
very different suddenly. Still I inhaled deeply, he was wet and hot
and like me, quickly becoming aroused again.
Kelly interrupted us, hearing Dylan's sigh, followed by a
little whimper of unbridled delight. He turned around and looked
up. "What are you guys do...Yuck,... that's gross," the boy said,
the note of disgust clearly present. I held back a laugh and
continue to probe Dylan's anus with my tongue. I adored Dylan and
I loved the taste of his beautiful young body. I basked in his
flesh, overcome by the intimacy of our contact, wanting only to go
on sucking and licking. "Yuck!" Kelly said again, "That's dirty.
That's where Dylan poops from." I didn't think that Kelly could see
what I was doing to Dylan, all he could see was my face pressed
tightly into the older boy's buttocks.
Dylan saved me the trouble of answering, "It's not, Kelly.
It's not.... It feels so awesome," Dylan sighed out.
My tongue probed back into the boy as far as possible, then I
pulled away, gave the boy's crack one long wet lick, kissed him on
either cheek and turned him around. In the few all too-brief moments
that I had spent, Dylan had become erect again, his little penis
sticking straight up pointing towards his navel, though falling a
long way short of the little fold of brown flesh that was stretched
across the top, half covering the small indentation in his belly.
His penis reached somewhere about half-way I guessed, but he was
only twelve years old.
"You can see how much Dylan likes it, Kelly", I said, wiping
the saliva from my lips with the back of my hand, then playfully
tweaking the small hard penis. "Yeah, I guess it is dirty in a
way,... but you know it's a very special part of his body too. It's
where Dylan and I make love. It's not as if he wasn't clean
there,... but you're right,... we do need to be careful. There's
no point in any of us getting sick."
Kelly looked at me obviously confused, wondering why I was
worried about getting sick, thinking it was probably because of
'germs'. I wasn't sure that Kelly needed to know about sex and
hygiene but it was certainly time that Dylan had some basic
instruction. And Dylan gave me the perfect introduction.
"That guy yesterday,... the one in the store where we bought
the clothes,..." Dylan said hesitantly. I nodded as I continued to
apply the lotion to his thighs, getting very close to, but not
touching his rigid little cock. "....well he's gay too,... like
us,... isn't he?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes, Dylan,... I imagine he is,... but not quite like
us." I replied
Dylan nodded, "How is he different?" he persisted.
I shrugged, "How he acted."
"Oh!" Dylan said, "Yeah I guess he did act kind of weird." He
grinned, "It was like he wanted us to know that he was gay. He was
kind of showing off wasn't he."
"Huh Huh! But it was a bit more than that," I said.
"Because he was acting like a sissy the way he spoke and
stuff?" Dylan asked uncertainly. I nodded and smiled at the
observant twelve-year-old. Not much escaped Dylan's eyes, and with
his intelligence, he'd figure out most of the world around him fast
enough. "But,... well why?" Dylan asked still uncertain, then
added, "I don't want to be like that when I'm older. I know I'm gay
now but, well I want to be like you when I grow up."
I smiled and playfully flipped at the boy's penis, pulling it
downward towards the deck. He flinched as his penis bobbed back and
smacked against his belly with a loud slap. "You won't kiddo.
There's no way I'm going to let you grow up like that."
"Well why does he have to act like that if he's gay? You don't!
I felt really strange around him."
"What made you think he was gay, Dylan?" I asked.
The boy thought for a moment. "I dunno,... I guess,... well I
s'pose it was how he kept looking at me. It made me feel,... well
uncomfortable,... like he was looking at my body and I was naked.
I like it when you look at me,... you know what I mean,... but not
him though. I didn't like him at all."
I smiled, "I'm glad Dylan. I really don't think I could live
without you," I thought aloud.
"Huh?" the boy asked.
"What's the problem Dylan?" I asked gently. "You know sooner
or later you have to trust me. You're happy aren't you? What's
bothering you?"
The boy looked away and shrugged, "Yeah, Alex I'm happy, I've
never been this happy in my whole life. I'm okay."
"Dylan,... trust me, please," I said reassuringly, stroking
the boy's lithe, muscled legs, marvelling at the smoothness of his
skin, not even a trace of the faintest down.
"I,... I don't,... It's okay, really it is," the boy said
absently.
"Dylan," I said quietly.
The boy looked back at me, breathed out with a sigh, "It's
nothing." He hesitated then murmured, "I love you.... Alex I want
to be with you always,... I want to live with you and Kelly,... and
do what we did this morning in bed."
I smiled gently, "What about you mom, Dylan? She'd miss you.
She loves you too, doesn't she?" I said.
"Yeah. Yeah I know that,... but well it's different,... you
know that."
I nodded. "It is different, you know it and I know it, but
most people in the world would never understand. They'd think it's
terribly wrong, what we do together."
I looked up following the boy's body. His penis had softened
again. For some reason that worried me and my eyes continued up. I
found the boy looking down at me, tears forming in his beautiful
pale-blue eyes. He sniffed and pressed his lips together, then
swallowed.
"What's wrong Dylan?" I asked gently.
"Oh! I was just thinking about you,... and Kelly too for that
matter. I love you, I really do. I,... I want people to
understand,... I don't want them to hate us."
I squeezed some of the lotion out into my hand and began to
massage it in to the few square inches of Dylan's body that remained
free of lotion. It was the most important part of the boy, the part
that made him special, the part that made me love him.
"You know Dylan, both you and Kelly are beautiful boys. There
are a few men out there who would do anything to be here now with
you, men that would be kind and gentle,... I think some men would
love you every bit as much as I do. But you know there are a lot
of other men who wouldn't love you, they'd take advantage of the
fact that you're still young, they could hurt you a great deal.
You're both so young, it,... well it wouldn't be too difficult for
a man like that to ruin everything."
"What do you mean, Daddy?" Kelly asked.
"Well some men love boys, they love them so much that they
would never hurt them. They want the boy to be happy above
everything else. They will have sex with the boy, but it's a part
of their love. Like with Dylan and me. What I do with Dylan is the
way I show Dylan how much I love him."
Dylan grinned, lovingly placing his hand over mine, pressing
it tightly into his groin, squeezing my fingers back into the soft
little pouch under his penis. "Kelly I love your dad too,... I want
him to do that stuff with him more than anything else in the whole world.
That's what being gay means!" he said smiling at me.
"Dylan's absolutely right," I added. I took a deep breath,
"But not every man is like me. A lot don't care about loving you.
All they want is sex, and well, when you're young and as good-
looking as you two boys,... well they want it even more."
"How can they hurt us? I mean,... well Dylan said that you
hurt him a bit the first time,..." Kelly asked.
"It still hurts when I first put it inside him. It does doesn't
it, Dylan?" I said.
The older boy nodded slightly, "Yeah, it hurts,... but I don't
mind,... it stops pretty quickly once your dick is in a fair way.
Like this morning, it just hurt for the first couple of minutes,...
then it felt nice."
"That's only a part of the hurt, Kelly." I looked at Dylan and
smiled, feeling ashamed and sad that I hurt him, that he kept it
'bottled' up inside him. I wanted to feel his pain, to make
everything good and happy and nice for him. "Having sex,... with
some people,... is bad for you," I said slowly. "Having sex,...
with some men,... well it isn't like Dylan and me,... it, well it
could even kill you," I said slowly.
"How?" Dylan asked nervously.
"Well,... I guess if the man's penis is too big, or he isn't
as gentle as he should be when he puts it inside the boy,... it's
very likely that he'll be hurt pretty badly, the boy's insides will
be damaged or torn up. Dylan bled quite a bit the first two times and
I was very careful." I said. "Then there's Aids,... you know what
that is?"
Kelly looked uncertain but Dylan nodded, "Yeah! It's a disease
or something."
"Yes, Dylan it is. It's a terrible disease, there's no cure,
almost everyone who has caught it dies. It's a disease that gays
get."
"Is it caused by germs?" Kelly asked.
I nodded. "The germ gets into your blood and starts reducing
the ability of your body to resist other germs, that's what the
word 'Aids' stands for Kelly, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.
It means that your body's immune system breaks down, so you get
sick,... Normally when you get sick you body makes things that
fight the germs so you get better,... or immune. But with Aids it
doesn't,... so eventually you get so sick that you die."
"But well how does the germ get inside?" Dylan asked.
"Is it something like a cold?" Kelly asked.
I shook my head, "No it's not like a cold, Kelly. Mostly the
germ gets directly into your blood but you can get it other ways
too. If the other person had Aids it's very likely you'll get it
too. He might not even know he's got it... then again he might,...
but he doesn't care about you enough to worry. The germs are already
in his blood, or in his semen,... that's his sperm,... even in his
saliva. When he puts his penis inside you, in your bottom, or even
in your mouth, the germs go into you."
"Yuck!" Kelly exclaimed.
"It's worse for a boy like Dylan,... because his body is
fairly small inside,... well it's very likely he's going to bleed
when the man's penis is inside his bottom,... then the germs go
straight into his blood. If the man's penis is inside his mouth
it's still very dangerous,... but at least there's a chance the boy
won't get it. Back here," I said, gently squeezing Dylan's small
firm cheeks, "...well it's almost certain."
"But you don't have it? Aids that is?" Dylan asked nervously.
I looked at the boy gently. He thought for a moment and then smiled
knowingly, "'cause we wouldn't do that stuff if you did, right? You
wouldn't want to hurt me?"
I nodded. "Your mom knows about this Dylan. She'd much rather
you were having sex with a boy about your own age. I think I would
too, even though I know it would mean that I wouldn't be here with
you now. It's probably better that you find out about your body
like that....with someone your own age. Dylan,... the problem is,
well,... not every boy is the same,... most boys, if they're
interested, have sex together... A few boys are different. They come
to grown men to find out... You know a boy may not even be gay,...
but it's part of growing up,... of finding out about themselves."
Dylan looked at me uncertainly, "Like Gary, my friend from
school, I don't think he's gay,... he just wanted to have fun,...
when I wanted to do more stuff,... well, he didn't. I,..." The boy
swallowed awkwardly, "I started pretending I was with a man, looking
at pictures in books or magazines,... I even cut a few out and hid
them in my room,... pictures of guys in their underpants and stuff
like that. I guess I'm one of those boys huh?... Is that bad?" he
asked after a long pause.
I shrugged. "Dylan a lot of people wouldn't understand that
you could feel that way. They don't realize that you could be
interested in me in the same way that I'm attracted to you. They'd
say you were too young to know what you wanted or what was good for
you,... they think I am doing a bad thing, taking advantage of you
because you're so young. They'd say that I forced you to have sex."
"But I'm not so young, I'm twelve. I love you, I,... well I
only do what I want to with you,... you don't force me," Dylan
retorted angrily. "Why can't they understand? Why can't they mind
their own business and leave us alone?"
I nodded in agreement, "A few might understand how we feel
about each other, but not many. Mostly I think they're scared. They
don't understand because they don't have the same feelings. They
become frightened, I guess because they think of their own
children, that somehow I'd lead them astray, that my sole interest
is enjoying their bodies. Dylan, you know I love you. I love you
because of what and who you are, but also because you love me back.
I'm not interested in taking advantage of some little boy. But
there are a lot of men in the world who are interested in that kind
of thing."
Dylan nodded understandingly, "Like the guy in the store?
Yuck! I would never do that stuff with him. He's,... well he's kind
of slimey."
I laughed, "Well, that's one word for it, I guess. Mostly he's
just different. He needs understanding too. He's probably a nice
person deep down, it's just that he thinks differently."
"Yeah I guess," Dylan said unconvincingly.
I grinned, "You don't have to like him,... and I certainly
don't want you having sex with him,... but,... well you don't have
to hate him. All he did was look at you, Dylan."
"Yeah! I know that,... I don't think I hate him,... I just
don't,... well like him, and I don't want to grow up to be like
him, that's all," Dylan said.
I laughed, "Don't worry kiddo, you won't. I always want you
to be able to talk to me Dylan, more than anything I want us to be
friends. Even if we stop having sex, I'll still love you, I'll still
want you to be my friend."
Dylan looked up, I could see the shock, the fear, the terror
that my words brought, "But,... well I,... we,... always will won't
we. I like doing stuff with you," he said, suddenly on the verge
of crying, "I love you, Alex,... I don't wanna stop,... never,...
ever! I won't ever do this with anyone else! I promise."
Lovingly I fondled the boy's golden-blond hair, it was so
soft, like silk, glistening in the midday sun. "I hope you don't
Dylan because it would tear my heart out. But as you get older,...
well we don't know what will happen then,... Later on, maybe
tonight I'll show you and Kelly a way to avoid getting Aids."
"But I won't,... Not if I'm always with you and neither of
us,... well,... you know," Dylan said sadly. "I guess I don't want
you doing this stuff with another boy except me."
I wasn't sure how to answer that. Sooner or later Dylan would
grow up. I didn't know if I would lose interest when he was no
longer a boy. I hoped not. I shook my head and lovingly pulled the
naked boy into my arms and against my chest. We hugged as Kelly
looked up at us and smiled. "I'm glad you guys love each other and
all that, but I wanna fish some more," he giggled.
I pulled away, holding Dylan's shoulders, tenderly stroking
his thin brown neck with my thumbs. I knew that in some ways I was
taking advantage of the boy, but someone would sooner or later and
I was glad it was me. I grinned down at my son, "Good idea Kelly.
Let's put some lotion on you before you get burned okay."
I turned back to Dylan, our eyes met and I could feel the love
we both felt surging between us. "I bet Dylan catches the first
fish," I said.
"Why? Why not me?" Kelly asked jealously.
I laughed and pointed at Dylan's fishing rod. The tip was bent
over in an arc, jerking with sudden force, "Holy shit!" Dylan shouted
as he jumped away, and grabbed his fishing rod. I smiled as I
watched the two boys, both naked, their small firm buttocks still
pale, their slender brown bodies excited, their squeals of joy as
Dylan wrestled his first fish aboard, Kelly shouting encouragement
and instructions. It was a nice sized bass and a nice surprise since
it was in the middle of the day.
As soon as the boys quietened down, which took quite a while
because catching one's first fish tends to leave a boy in something
of a 'high', I made Kelly stand up and try to remain still while I
applied suntan lotion to him. Getting Kelly to be still for any
length of time is nearly impossible. Full of life, his energy kind
of spills out, and he wriggles and twists and does just about
anything to get free. Finally I had enough of him covered that I
was certain that any sunburn wouldn't be too painful.
The boys fished for another two hours and caught two more
fish, and even though both were attributed to Kelly, I think Dylan
shared in the glory. By then it was more that hot enough to swim
and when the boys put their rods down and suggested going for a
swim I was happy to go along. It had been more that four hours since
I'd finally pulled free of Dylan's body and he'd been so exhausted
that he had not moved. Now I watched the boy clambering up onto the
rail, balancing for a brief second by leaning his buttocks back
against me, then executing a perfect dive into the water from about
five feet up. It was as if nothing had happened, he was healthy and
happy and just like any 'normal' twelve-year-old boy. He arced into
water with barely a splash, and from above I watched his beautiful
naked body moving in breast-stroke under the surface. He emerged,
shaking his head, laughing, calling for us to join him. Kelly
jumped in with a big 'cannonball' splash and I dived in from the
side of the boat. Needless to say a water fight started as soon as
I came to the surface, Kelly and Dylan ganged up on me and although
I could have won I took the coward's way out and beat a hasty
retreat to the shore amid hysterical giggles from the two boys.
They followed me up on the shore and we spent the next hour or so
exploring. Following the two naked boys around as they discovered
the world around them, made up names for the different places,
pretended they were shipwrecked, and then wild indians, and then
pirates, was as much fun as I have ever had. The boys still lived
in a precious world, a world of dreams and fantasies, a world that
I was still a part of because of my association with them.
It was close to four o'clock when I finally convinced the boys
it was time to go back to the boat. Neither boy was willing to
leave, the shore had become our special island, something that
we would always treasure, but it was getting late and I still needed
to motor back to the marina and pick up a few essentials. So after
I promised that we would come back later that afternoon, the boys
and I swam back to the boat, stood on the stern sun-deck and ate
big slices of red watermelon, spitting seeds into the water and
dripping on the deck. Then it was into the cabin and dressing,
finally covering our bodies for the first time that day. I pulled
up the anchor, with help from Dylan and Kelly, carefully steered
out of the little bay and headed for the marina. As we came into
clear water I handed the helm over to Dylan. He grinned like a tiger
and didn't do a half-bad job either, then shared it with Kelly,
which sent us careening over the water in something of a sine curve.
After we tied the boat at the dock we went up to the car and
drove the half-mile or so into town. At the supermarket I spotted
a telephone and led the boys over to it. It took a minute to call
Dylan's mom using my credit card. It was after five o'clock and I
was hopeful that she was home. She picked up the phone almost
immediately and I handed the receiver to Dylan and nodded as I
playfully squeezed his shoulder. I heard Dylan say "hi mom" as I
turned and pulled Kelly after me into the supermarket.
Chapter 11. Moral Bankruptcy
Dylan finally caught up to us in the dairy section of the
supermarket as I was trying to choose between skim milk (good for
me) and whole milk with vitamin D (good for the boys). It was nearly
twenty minutes after Kelly and I had gone into the store. Most of
that time Dylan had been on the telephone with his mother. He
grinned as he came up. "Hi guys,... Mom said to say thanks,... I
guess for letting me call on your credit card and all... I think
it made her pretty happy," Dylan said.
I smiled back at the boy. "No problem. I think she needs to
know that everything is okay and you're having a good time. You
are, aren't you," I teased.
Dylan gave me a cheeky grin and nodded and then looked into
the shopping cart, already half-filled. He saw the breakfast cereal
I had picked out, "Special K" and you could see his distaste as his
little nose wrinkled playfully, "Yuck, this stuff is truly gross
man."
I grinned, giving in without a fight. "Okay Dyl, you and Kelly
go pick up something that you both like,... just go easy on the
sugar okay."
He grinned and headed off with Kelly. I put the whole milk
with vitamin D into the cart. At least they'd get a few things that
were good for them. The boys came back with breakfast cereal. It
was a box of sugar coated cereal, "Fruit Loops" or something like
that. "Yuck," I teased. "You guys really aren't going to eat that
stuff are you?" Kelly and Dylan grinned and they nodded together.
"Okay, well I guess you guys are old enough to make some decisions
for yourselves.
They both smiled, and took off again. They reappeared about a
minute later with a packet of cheese-filled hot-dogs, dropped it
in the shopping cart, giggled and took off again. The two boys fed
on each other, each boy providing inspiration and a challenge to
the other. For the next ten minutes they ran back and forth through
the store, sometimes returning the things I had already picked up,
though I expected that they usually just dumped the stuff somewhere
where it didn't belong, always bringing back new acquisitions that
were more to the liking of pre-teen boys. I couple of times I had
to ask them to quieten down before they scared some poor old lady
half to death as they hurtled down the aisles. But it was all in
fun, mostly they were more interested in having a good time than
in actually buying anything. I said no to a few of the things that
the boys brought back but they got away with murder. Still, it was
a holiday for them as much as for me.
I was fairly certain that we'd bought just about everything
in the store and I started towards the check-out. I was just about
to go through the check-out, although Kelly was dragging along
behind looking at something or other, when Dylan came up beside me
as said quietly, "I want to ask you something?"
"Kind of personal huh?" I teased.
He grinned, "Yeah, kinda." He stretched up and I bent forward
slightly and he whispered, "That KY stuff, or whatever it was that
you told me about,... you know for making me slippery back
there,..." I nodded, "Well,... do you think they'd have something
like that here?"
I shrugged uncertainly, "Maybe. It's probably over in that
section if they do," I said, pointing vaguely towards the other
side of the store where we had seen the array of drug-store-related
things. "Why?" I teased, "You got something in mind?" I stopped
pushing the cart forward and pulled back into the aisle we'd just
come from.
Dylan gave me a cheeky grin, "Yeah!" he whispered, then looked
around before he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "The same thing
you've got in mind."
I grinned at the young boy, "You really want the KY? It was a
lot of fun just with the Crisco wasn't it? And we already know
Vaseline works okay."
Dylan smirked at me, blushing slightly as he remembered.
"Yeah! The other stuff is okay, at least the Vaseline is, but I
don't wanna use the oil again for a while, okay?"
I remembered the wonderful lubricity I had experienced inside
the boy's taut young body only hours ago. It had been overwhelming
as my penis had slid back and forth inside the oil-slicked tube of
the boy's rectum, the excess oil spilling out until my entire groin
and most of Dylan seemed to be covered in a glistening slippery
film. "Why not Dylan? It didn't hurt did it?" I asked nervously.
Dylan shook his golden-blond head and said hesitantly, "It
didn't hurt at the time,... it was really nice,... better than at
the farm even.... But when I woke up I,... well I didn't like it
that much, okay?"
"But why?" I asked, "It looked fine back there at breakfast.
Your hole was pretty big of course and it looked like it was a bit
swollen and bruised... I think,... well considering what we did,...
well,... it probably ought to be a bit sore after that."
Dylan swallowed nervously, thought for a second, then said
slowly, "It isn't sore,... well a bit okay... If you really must
know,... when I woke up I felt awful,... like in my belly,... you
know when you have to go to the bathroom. I just made it in time.
I never pooped like that before. It wasn't like diarrhea, it kind
of exploded out in big lumps at first,... then it got really watery.
It was gross,... and real smelly too. I pooped a whole lot,... and
even after it stopped coming out I kept on getting cramps like you
get with diarrhea."
I looked at Dylan, "Jesus, Dylan, I'm sorry. Why didn't you
say something you poor bugger?" I turned the cart around and headed
back down the aisle towards Kelly, still wandering along looking
at just about everything.
"I thought I was going die,... it felt so bad. I felt better
as soon as I'd finished,... like I was all emptied out inside. I
thought about telling you but,... well I guess I didn't want to
worry you and make you think I was sick or something like that."
The boy smiled shyly, slightly embarrassed, "Later on I kind of
figured out that it probably was the oil,... because nothing like
that happened before when we used the other stuff. At first,...
well I thought it was,... well because we did it for such a long
while,... a whole hour,... and maybe something got hurt inside me."
I nodded, steering the cart with one hand, my other arm around
Dylan's shoulders as he walked beside me. "I guess it acted like
an enema,... it made your poop loosen up. Well,... next time we
know better,... no more oil from now on okay?"
Dylan looked up at me awkwardly, "I don't want to never do it
again like that but,... only,... well maybe we shouldn't use so
much of it next time."
"Well anyway Dylan," I smiled, "I think you're right about the
KY. It's probably a lot better for you. Let's see if we can find
some."
Dylan walked beside me and Kelly dragged along in the rear.
Lubricants were exactly where you'd expect to find them. Below the
condoms and just above the ovulation and pregnancy tests. At least
that's where you'd find them in most of the U.S., but in the
backwoods of Kentucky, where selling booze is illegal, I didn't
know what to expect. The funny thing was that I was embarrassed.
Here I was shopping with an incredibly beautiful twelve-year-old
boy and I was buying KY. I stopped the cart a few feet further up
the aisle, past the KY, looked behind us to make sure that no one
was watching, then I backtracked and picked up two tubes of KY, the
6 oz. kind in the cardboard box. I even pointed the condoms out to
Dylan remembering our earlier talk about sex.
I don't know about boys today. When I was twelve I had a good
idea what condoms were for but Dylan was completely uninterested.
I guess all he wanted was the KY but the idea of 'doing it' with
him and having a piece of rubber stretched over my cock wasn't that
appealing to me either. As Kelly caught up we headed back up towards
the check-out. Picking the right check-out was a bit of a problem.
Only three were open. One was 'manned' by someone who looked like
the assistant store manager, the other by a girl in her late teens,
and the other by an a black woman, somewhere between thirty and
forty, if I had to guess.
The manager type was a definite no-no. He probably stocked the
shelves. The girl was a good bet, she'd probably never had a use
for a lubricant other than what she produced herself. The problem
was that she might know what KY was used for. By myself, I wouldn't
have batted an eye, and walked right on through, but with Dylan
right next to me, Kelly too for that matter, it seemed terribly
obvious that I needed it for one, or both of the boys.
The black woman, would she know or wouldn't she? That was the
question. For a moment I considered sending Dylan and Kelly outside
until I was though the checkout. But hell, for all she knew I needed
it for my wife, or girlfriend, or.... I went into her check-out and
Dylan helped get the things out of the cart. Kelly looked over the
display of candy but knew better than to ask. I made sure that the
KY was buried somewhere in the middle of our groceries, hoping it
would go through the scanner unnoticed. Incredibly, everything went
smoothly, she rang the total, I paid and we pushed the cart, now
full of paper bags, out to the car. I breathed a sigh of relief as
soon as we were safely outside.
By the time we had finished shopping the sky had started to
cloud up, suddenly getting much darker in the west, a clear sign
that a thunder storm was brewing. I drove back to the boat as fast
as I could, assigned bags for the boys to carry and hurried down
to the marina. I couldn't tell how long before the storm would break
but it was obviously headed in our direction. Once everything was
aboard I gave serious thought to staying at the marina for the
night. It would curtail our activities for the evening but it would
be a lot easier than facing a storm out on the lake. The boys
decided for me.
"You want me to untie the rope at the front," Dylan asked.
"Huh?" I said. "Oh! Well it looks like a storm, I was thinking
that maybe we should stay here tonight.".
"Well you did promise," Dylan said.
Kelly nodded, "Yeah, Dad. You said we were going back to where
we stayed last night. You promised. Dylan and I like it there."
I smiled and gave in, there was still some time before the
storm arrived. "Okay, Dylan," I said, "You know what to do, go up
there and let go the rope when I say. Kelly, you keep watch behind
me."
The boys jumped, eager to get back to the little bay they'd
named KayDee Bay, and I started the engines. As soon as we were in
the channel I sent the boys down into the cabin to start putting
things away. I opened the throttles wide open on the twin fifty
horsepower Evinrudes and headed back across the lake at full speed.
The sky was getting even darker as I reached the other side, turning
an almost greenish color, and I could hear the threatening roll of
thunder in the distance. I almost missed the break in the shoreline
that led into our bay. Once inside the narrow opening I cut the
engines and drifted until the boat stopped. I went forward, dropped
the anchor, then went into the cabin just as the first huge
raindrops started splattering on the deck. Perfect timing. The boys
had finished unpacking the things we'd bought and were sitting on
the couch looking at the two "Super Heroes" comic books they had
tossed into the cart.
Dylan looked up with a grin, "Just made that, huh?"
I nodded, "You're not wrong Dylan. Won't be able to go
swimming now though."
The boys shrugged. For the moment at least comic books won
over swimming and playing on the shore. In the little bay, we were
protected. Through the window we could see the trees at the tops
of the surrounding hills being tossed in the wind, but where we
were moored was calm. I went to the refrigerator, actually more
like an ice chest, and retrieved a beer. I had only brought a dozen,
but who would have expected that this would be a dry county. I went
over to the boys and sat on the only other chair, watching them
recline on the couch, now completely absorbed by the comics. They
were quiet at last.
Dylan looked sexy, he was dressed in his black tee shirt and
shorts. His golden-blond hair seemed to glisten even in the dim
light provided by the cabin lights. His hands seemed so small, his
fingers deftly turning the pages, then pausing as he read the
captions. His arms were slender, even browner than they had been
only hours ago. I could not look away even I had wanted to. It was
as if the boy had a magnetic power, demanding my complete
attention. His body seemed so small, so fragile, so innocent. His
legs were slightly apart, slender and as brown as his arms,
disappearing into his shorts, leading upward to the most wonderful
part of him, the small, ever-present little bulge that was revealed
by the folds in the soft cotton. He radiated sex. It seemed to come
from every part of him, from every motion. Dylan lay on his side
next to Kelly, supporting his head on one hand, his elbow pressing
into the couch only a fraction of an inch from Kelly's bare leg.
After about five minutes Dylan looked up suddenly from his
comic book, caught my eyes and grinned. He pushed the comic book
away, momentarily sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, brushed
the hair back from his forehead, wriggled on the couch, stretched
and arched his back like a cat, smiled at me again, and finally
said, "Well?"
I smiled back. I tried to read the boy's mind, concentrating
my entire being as I focused on him, "Huh?" I said absently.
Dylan smiled, "Well?" He slowly came out of his reclining
position and sat up, stretched his arms back and yawned, then his
eyes met mine again. The 'magnetism' was overpowering. I watched
the boy breathe deeply, in and then out, letting out a little sigh
that conveyed as much to me as anything he could have said. He
glanced at the doorway that led back to the bedroom, then his eyes
returned to mine.
"Well?" I said teasingly. Dylan smiled shyly. "You bored
kiddo?" I added playfully. Dylan raised his eyebrows slightly,
meaningfully, knowingly.
"I am," Kelly piped in. "It's too soon for dinner. What are
we gonna do now?"
I grinned, "What do you guys want to do?" I asked.
"I dunno," Kelly said, "Maybe watch TV, I guess,... or play
games,... we did bring some,... I know we did."
I nodded, "I think they're in the bedroom. You can get one if
you want."
Kelly scrambled to his feet and started into the next room.
There was a disappointed look on Dylan's face that was much like
the look on mine. "Heh, Kelly, hold on a sec', I've got a better
idea. How about we play cards instead," I said quickly, suddenly
remembering that I'd seen a deck of cards somewhere on the boat.
"Well,... can't we play Monopoly or something else. I don't
know how to play cards," Kelly replied.
I glanced at Dylan. The older boy shrugged. The last thing I
wanted to do was play Junior Monopoly. "Okay, well I'll teach you.
You want to play cards Dylan?"
"Yeah! I guess so... But I don't know how to play either,"
Dylan added.
I laughed, suddenly remembering where I'd seen the cards. They
were in the bedroom, in the drawer next to the bed. I told Kelly
where the cards were and he went off to get them. He came back a
minute later and passed the box to me. I opened the box. The cards
were still new, they had a picture of the marina on the back and
the name and phone number of the rental company. I shuffled the
deck clumsily, I was never much good at that. "Okay, so what do you
guys want to learn first? Poker?" The boys looked at me without
much interest. I grinned, "Okay,... how about,... strip poker?"
That piqued Dylan's interest, "Huh?"
"Strip poker,... we play for clothes." I smiled at the boy and
raised my eyebrows, "You lose a hand, you lose a piece of clothing.
The last person to be naked, wins."
The boys giggled. "Yeah?" Dylan smirked as the idea grew in
his mind, "Wins what?" he added.
The boy had me there, what on earth did one win with strip
poker, other than seeing the other guys strip. I shrugged as I
thought, "Oh I don't know. I guess anything. We'd have to decide
that I s'pose."
Kelly and Dylan grinned at each other and then at me. "Okay,
I know," Dylan smirked, then added, "The winner gets what ever he
wants, okay?"
I laughed, the boy was catching on fast. "Okay that's fair."
Kelly nodded his agreement. I placed the cards into three almost
equal piles, then distributed them to the boys and myself. I
figured that we each had seven pieces of clothing to lose. "The
rules are really simple guys, I'll teach you as we go. If you lose
a hand, you have to take off one piece of clothing,... and each
sock or shoe counts as one piece." The boys exchanged grins. I put
down the first card, a Ten of Hearts. "Okay Dylan, your turn." He
put down a Three of Spades. "Now you Kelly."
He turned the card over slowly, looking at it as he peeled it
away. It was a Jack of Diamonds. I grinned. "Okay, now when someone
puts down a card like this, either a Jack, or a Queen, or a King
or an Ace, then the next person has to put cards down on top of it.
Like I have to put one card on Kelly's Jack. If it was a Queen I'd
put two, three on a King and four cards on an Ace." I drew a card,
it was a Six of Hearts. "Now I lose this hand so I have to take off
a piece of clothing." The boys giggled as I kicked off a shoe. "Now
Dylan you go next."
The game continued for about ten minutes, amid a lot of
giggles and teasing, until Kelly and I were down to our shorts and
Dylan still had the additional cover of his tee shirt. On the next
hand Dylan dropped a Jack of Spades onto the pile. Slowly Kelly
lifted up the next card, then grinning cheekily, dropped a Nine of
Hearts on the pile. My son giggled sheepishly, glanced at me, and
stood up. Without a word he pulled his shorts downward, letting
them slide down his little brown legs to his feet. He stepped out
of them, dressed only in his bikini-briefs. Like me, and I expected
like Dylan, he was as hard as a rock, his little penis sticking
outward and upward in the taut patterned nylon, the tiny head
clearly outlined in the thin material by the little ridge around
it. He smirked and then sat down on the couch again.
On the next round it was my turn to drop the shorts. I followed
Kelly's example and stood up, shucking my shorts to the amusement
of the two boys. My penis was fully erect and it stuck up under the
elastic waist-band of my briefs. The boys chortled as my penis came
into view, the swollen purplish head and about two more inches
poking out. I laughed with them, pushing it to one side so that it
was covered before I sat down again. We played two more rounds until
I played an Ace to Dylan and he wasn't able to cover it. He grinned
at me and slid out of his tee shirt, pulling it upward over his
head and then he tossed it at me playfully. The cloth was still
warm from the contact with his beautiful young body.
On the next round Dylan played a Queen of Diamonds. Kelly
peeled a Five from his cards first, smiled at Dylan and then slowly
lifted up a Seven of Spades. He hesitated. "Go on Kelly, drop 'em,"
Dylan laughed. My son blushed slightly as he stood up. Slowly his
hands moved to his sides, then lifting the thin elastic waist-band
outward and away from the small spike that jutted from his pubis.
He tugged them down, all the way to the floor before he straightened
up. His penis was rigid, perhaps harder than it had ever been. Tiny
blue ripples marked the swollen veins, the skin so delicate that
it seemed almost transparent. His scrotum was still loose, the
rounded shape of his little testicles visible in the soft pink
folds. I gazed at my naked son. Nearly seven, his little body was
perfectly proportioned, his thighs and pelvis already a bit darker
from his exposure to the sun that afternoon. Kelly giggled, his
hand coming instinctively to his penis, stroking himself gently,
as he looked at Dylan and me, shamelessly but naturally excited.
Then his fingers moved around so that they were supporting his
immature testicles, cupping them, squeezing as gently as he could.
He looked anxiously at me for a few seconds. The room was suddenly
very quiet. I smiled at Kelly and he smiled back and then he flopped
back down on the couch, now out of the game.
Dylan was one piece of clothing behind me and I took it on
that round. He stripped off his shorts the same way that Kelly and
I had, standing up and looking at me, holding my gaze for an
instant, then deliberately, slowly, pulling then down his thighs.
Like Kelly he was wearing his new patterned bikini-briefs. His
penis was sticking out too, pulling the nylon into tight, small
folds from between his legs, his ball-sac forming a little rounded
hemisphere below. Dylan and I grinned at each other, we were now
on an even footing. I drew the next card, an Eight of Hearts.
Dylan's card was a King of Clubs. I played two losers. The third
card I drew slowly, watching the boy's eyes as he tried to peek. I
sighed, breathing out in relief. It was the Jack of Hearts. Dylan
looked up suddenly, seriously, challenging me with a silent stare.
He knew I hadn't cheated but he tried to pretend anger. "You
cheated," he accused me playfully.
I laughed and shook my head, "Your turn kiddo," I teased.
Dylan shook his head, then he smiled at me cheekily. He lifted
up his next card so that I couldn't see it and peeked underneath.
Then he looked back at me, his eyes alight with a sudden surge of
excitement. I saw a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, his
little dimples suddenly appearing as if by magic. Then slowly he
turned the card over. It was the Two of Hearts.
I smiled at Dylan and he stood up, his little hard penis making
a pointed tent in his briefs. His hands came to his hips, slipped
under the waist-band and pulled down slowly, his eyes meeting mine
as I watched intently. The tip of his penis caught under the elastic
and was pulled downward, then suddenly it sprang free and snapped
back up, slapping against his lower belly. It seemed loud in the
silent room. I watched as Dylan completed the motion, pushing his
bikini-briefs all the way to the floor. Then the boy stood up
straight again, his lithe slender body as straight and full of life
as the little hard penis that throbbed between his legs. He was
beautiful. He stood still and silent, waiting as my eyes travelled
up and down, taking in every precious inch of him. Now naked, he
was freed from the inhibitions that come with clothes. He flexed
his penis, making it jerk slightly, hungrily, his scrotum
tightening and drawing his testicles upward for the merest fraction
of an inch. The boy's sexuality was overpowering.
"You win!" Dylan said huskily as he grinned. My eyes came back
to his. "You get whatever you want."
I half-closed my eyes, pretending to think, "Hmmmm! Whatever
I want?" I said, trying hard to control my voice.
"Huh huh!" Dylan said, his voice becoming urgent as he
breathed deeply.
I stood up, "Well,... what if,... I want,... you?" I said
slowly as I stood up and took a step forward.
The boy breathed out, "Huh huh!" he whispered.
I could see his chest rising and falling, his ribs outlined
in the smooth brown skin, the firm muscles of his belly almost
quivering. The boy swallowed, then his little pink tongue came out
and he licked his bottom lip. Desire, lust, love, cascaded through
my mind. I could have whatever I wanted. What I wanted, Dylan wanted
as well. Kelly, now excluded from the 'game', was sprawled out on
the couch. He twisted around and looked up at us silently, his
attention now diverted away from his comic book, even if only
briefly. I reached forward and gently took Dylan's hand and drew
the boy slowly, inexorably towards me. As his body brushed lightly
against mine it felt as though something arced between us. He was
warm and alive, bursting with the energy of youth, spilling into
my body and renewing me. I stooped slightly, placing my left arm
behind his knees, my right arm around his narrow shoulders, and I
lifted the naked twelve-year-old boy up in my arms. This beautiful
boy was mine, mine to love and to cherish and to enjoy.
I stood there looking down at Dylan as he lay back in my arms.
He was excited. From his breathing, from the rapid movement of his
eyes, from the beating of his heart, from the unmistakable tremble,
I knew he was excited. He was happy and eager. For a moment we
looked into each other's eyes, sharing our thoughts silently.
Outside the storm had passed, now there was just the steady,
peaceful sound of rain falling on the deck above us. Carefully I
carried the boy through the doorway and into the bedroom. I left
the door open. Kelly knew enough to leave us alone and even if he
didn't, I knew that my son would see nothing that he had not already
seen. I placed Dylan on the bed, then kneeled over him, straddling
his slender legs. Lying there on the white sheets the boy looked
innocent, almost virginal, perfect in every way. His arms reached
up for me, his hands locking behind my neck, pulling me down to
him. The kiss was sweet and gentle at first, then as our passion
grew, his mouth became wetter and his little tongue became more
active. We kissed and kissed, longer and harder than we'd ever
kissed before.
When we parted after long and very wet minutes we were both
trembling, our hearts pounding rapidly, our cocks throbbing, aching
for relief. The boys had placed the KY on the night-stand beside
the bed. One box was already opened and the tube had been taken
out. The plastic cap was back in place but I could see that it had
been squeezed, even if only slightly, but such is a boy's
curiosity. I picked it up and flicked the cap back, then squeezed,
watching the crystalline jelly ooze out onto the fingers of my
right hand, a long thin glistening diamond. Dylan watched with
fascination, then as I placed the tube back on the night-stand he
rolled over, twisting so that he lay on his belly, his little
buttocks lifted up slightly, waiting. I settled beside the boy, one
leg over his, parting his crack with my fingers and smearing most
of the gel directly into and around the small soft place in the
center of his crack. The boy was serene as he felt the pressure of
my finger, then suddenly I penetrated him and he sighed as my finger
sank into him.
When Dylan was ready he let me know, his sighs becoming more
intense, his breathing coming in spurts, then when he started
working his hips obscenely I used more KY to lubricate my penis.
Getting that first inch of my penis inside Dylan is always the
hardest. It's painful more often than not because the boy's body
has to yield and accept the presence of my penis while his anal
band tries to resist. But once inside, I gave him a few minutes to
adjust. The tension faded slowly and I began to increase the
pressure, sinking into him a fraction of inch at a time until five
inches of my penis was inside him. Then I began moving gently,
letting Dylan's body relax momentarily after each forward thrust.
Dylan trembled, quivered, shuddered, and cried, not in pain but in
that incredible delight that began inside him and flowed through
his young body.
We climaxed within seconds of each other, both of us shaking
uncontrollably, my cock jerking wildly with exploding spasms. Then
we collapsed, exhausted, our passion quietened at least for the
present. I lay over Dylan, careful to take most of my weight on my
elbows, but keeping my groin hard against his small pale cheeks.
My cock softened and I felt the seal between us getting weaker. I
was still part of Dylan's body, as he was still part of mine. After
a long while I finally extricated my penis from its hot wet home
and we dozed off, like lovers often do after sex, our hearts
content, our bodies satisfied. Dylan was curled up with his head
on my shoulder, one arm draped possessively across my chest, one
leg over my thighs, just touching my genitals, his own immature sex
organs pressed firmly into my side.
It was nearly dark when I awoke and I was startled to see Kelly
standing by the bed looking down at us. A moment later Dylan
struggled awake, blinking and rubbing his eyes sleepily. The sweet
musky smell of our love-making seemed heavy in the air. He smiled
at Kelly. It was smile that conveyed his happiness, his affection
for the other boy. In the faint light I barely saw my son's lips
press together, the boy's desire evident in his hard short penis,
his little brown chest rising and falling rhythmically. I reached
out and took Kelly by the hand. Like Dylan, I saw a smile form at
the corners of his mouth, then widen until he beamed happily. I was
uncertain, I knew that psychologists would say the boy would be
damaged, but I knew that it was something that Kelly wanted every
bit as much as Dylan. He came willingly, drawn forward by my hand,
down onto the bed. I reached back to the night-stand and picked up
the tube of KY. We'd have to get more pretty quickly I realized as
I passed it to Dylan and settled back in the pillows to watch.
..........................THE END...........................
Epilogue.
After three wonderful weeks on the houseboat both Dylan and Kelly had
sun tans you wouldn't believe (head to toe, and everything in between).
Dylan's hair was silver-blonde and Kelly's was a couple of shades
lighter as well. They were both very happy boys and a close friendship
had developed between them, despite the difference in their ages.
Both Dylan and his mother live with Kelly and me now. The
relationship that was formed during the three weeks aboard the
honeymooner was so strong and so positive that we had little choice
but to establish 'something more permanent'. I was divorced shortly
after our return. It turned out that my wife had met someone else
during her forays and it was a mutual separation.
Dylan is now fifteen, he's nearly five foot four inches tall
and is about one year into puberty. He sends his love! Kelly turned
ten only a few weeks ago. Like Dylan, my son is a very sexy boy
(with Dylan and only Dylan).